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THE TREASURE OF HO 









THE TREASURE OF HO 

A ROMANCE 


BY 

L. ADAMS BECK 

Author of “The Key of Dreams,” 
"The Perfume of the Rainbow,” etc. 




NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 

1924 





Copyright, 1924 

By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, Inc. 





PRINTED IN THE IJ. S. A. 



VAIL - BALLOU PRESS, INC. 
BINGHAMTON AND NEW YORK 


APR 24 ’24 ' ? 

© Cl A 7 9 2131 









(The Treasure of Ho is historical, nor have I exagger¬ 
ated its enormous value. Many of the incidents of this 
romance are historical also, and the so-called magical 
events have been seen and authenticated by travellers in 
the Orient for many generations past and down to the 
present day.) 



THE TREASURE OF HO 











































i 








THE TREASURE OF HO 


CHAPTER I 


C HINA and the Western Hills far beyond Peking 
and the strangest experience of my life. When 
I hear the name of China—when I read it even 
in the trodden-out routine of the daily press, a picture 
rises before me, and this is it. 

Summer laying a leaden weight of heat over the dry 
parched city—the smells, the dust unbearable; life and 
work a load to be shouldered and dragged on somehow— 
anyhow; dust storms blowing at every breath of wind 
along the crowded streets, and the dust of Peking is, to 
say the politest of it, unwholesome; and, on top of all 
this, day in, day out the grind that leaves a man bleached 
and irritable and sick of the world at large and Peking 
in particular. 

Well, I had got to that stage. It took all my self- 
control to keep the office work going, and I was in the 
Customs, and the Customs can be uncommonly trying to 
a man’s temper. The endless Chinese delays and unbusi¬ 
nesslike ways—but what is the use of talking? I was 
sick of it all and praying for my holidays, and when they 
came I had made up my mind that I would go away 
alone—not to Wei-hai-wei, nor any of the European play 
places, but off to a happy solitude, restful, self-centred: 
and then I would begin—what I knew was a folly, only 
l 


2 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


it happened to please me—a little book on the early Kor¬ 
ean potteries. Of course it has been done a hundred 
times and by men who knew a deal more than I shall 
know if I live to be a thousand, but a man must have a 
hobby, and that was mine. 

So I sounded my boy Yin as to a retreat, a«nd he, in 
profound amazement at my thirst for solitude, sounded 
somebody else, and the chain went on until I heard of a 
little lost Buddhist temple beyond the western hills on 
the heights where a priest would let a couple of rooms 
gladly if he could find any one to take them. It seemed 
that no one ever did; it was so far away and so dull. I 
must say they were perfectly candid about that. Indeed 
it was so solitary that even the tide of worship had long 
since drifted away from the August Peace Temple and 
except for a few wandering peasants it was left to itself 
entirely. But there it was, and Yin, who was by no 
means anxious I should go, on being pressed could not 
deny that the country round was most beautiful and 
that the fishing in the river under the crags was not to 
be despised. Also, he added, the priest was a very 
learned man who knew all about the days of the 
ancestors. 

Just the bait for me. I determined at once to go there. 

Now I must explain myself a bit because that has a 
bearing on what happened. 

I am John Mallerdean and in the Customs, and China 
is hereditary in my family. Just as in India you get 
generations of men where son succeeds father in the 
Army or the Civil Service, so in China there have been 


THE TREASURE OF HO 3 

Mallerdeans ever since the door was opened. And 
before. 

I believe my great-great-uncle was the first. He got a 
foot in, how nobody knows, about a hundred and fifty 
years ago—the sort of man who earlier would have been 
called a “gentleman adventurer/’ for he went out to India 
to make his fortune and there disappeared and his father 
heard no more of him until he turned up in China, and 
there it was a family tradition that by a knowledge of 
medicine he cured the Emperor Ch’ien-lung of an attack 
of gout which had exasperated the Imperial temper to 
such fury that no one else dared suggest a remedy. And 
he had written back to his father by a Dutch trading ship 
that he had gained great rewards and was high in 
favour, having received a gold tablet which enabled him 
to move about China as he pleased—an almost impossible 
thing then and later. 

There was also a kind of notion handed down that 
he acted more or less as an agent of the Emperor in his 
dealings with England and France, but whether it were 
true or not I was never able to make out. There cer¬ 
tainly was a good deal of intrigue going on at the time 
about the opening of ports to trade, and so on, but no¬ 
body in the family really knew anything. One thing I 
was always sure of: If one could write that man’s ad¬ 
ventures it would be good reading. He was the real 
type of the gentleman-adventurer of the period and the 
century before, seeking his fortune where he could find 
it, but in honourable ways for all that! 

His few letters (and it may be supposed mails from 


4 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


China were irregular!) were reserved and a bit stilted 
according to the fashion of the times, but there was the 
character of an honourable man in them so far as they 
went. They dried up altogether when his father died 
in Exeter, and nothing more was known. His name, 
like mine, was John Mallerdean, and ever since his day 
there has been a Mallerdean in China. We made it our 
happy hunting ground, and so I took up the running 
when my turn came, and had done pretty well out of it 
in the humdrum way one does things nowadays. We all 
knew our China. It was in the Mallerdean blood. 

I think that’s all I need say of the past or present. 
I resolved I would make a walking trip of it when I got 
to a certain point in the hills, and started there early on 
a cloudless day, having sent my baggage on before. Yin 
was with me to show the way, which was uncommonly 
hard to find. How on earth can I describe the beauty of 
that tramp among the hills? People talk of North China 
as a dusty arid place of graves. They simply don’t know 
—they are not in it! The flowering shrubs— Did these 
people ever stop to think why China is called the 
“Flowery Empire”? Not they! 

But the wild wood jasmines were out, and the fra¬ 
grance of their thick white blossoms—almost like a tube¬ 
rose for scent—filled the air. You could not have stood 
it in the house, but out of doors it was heavenly—and 
as good to look at as to smell, with its white constellations 
of flowers. And the mimosas! Talk of the mimosas 
on the Riviera! Here they were great trees in glory—a 
powdery spray of gold trembling all over the boughs with 
the sombre leaves for a background. I could not get 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


5 


along for them at first—I simply had to stop and stare 
and marvel. And every feathery flower exhaled its heart 
in passionate perfume—calling upon the blue hills and 
the perfect sky to rejoice in its joy. 

Ah, well; we live in a very decent world if we could 
only leave it as we find it. But we can’t. Two years 
after the time I write of the Boxer business came and 
took the lid off hell. 

But that day it was heaven, and the days that followed. 
I got higher and higher up the hills, and slept at the 
little temples we found on the w'ay. Like all the Mailer- 
deans, I am not bad at languages, and my colloquial 
Chinese was a lift to me in the Customs and everywhere 
else. 

We seemed to have got above the heat cloud that dom¬ 
inated the city and its surroundings and the air was pure 
and fresh—and the peasants we met on the way frankly 
good-natured big fellows, industrious almost to a fault. 
They liked to stop and have a word, and if I had a 
cigarette to spare—why, that was a boon that implied 
such distinguished foreign rank that all the poor fellows 
had was at my service. They had not much! 

So we went on, and on the fourth day we reached a 
more mountainous district. Not that it was very high 
up, but those were the great wild crags beloved of Chinese 
artists, and a narrow rushing river that told of snow 
in the heights, and crowding about it silent pines 
that seemed to meditate all human fate in their dark 
solitudes. 

“The Temple of the August Peace is up there,” said 
Yin, pointing to a narrow climbing trail between the 


6 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


pines, “and if my respected master will be seated and 
eat his tiffin, this insignificant slave will now prepare it.” 

He could not have chosen a more attractive place— 
the Chinese I have come across certainly have that in¬ 
stinct for beauty which the Western peasant seems to 
lack. I sat down among the mossy rocks with the 
tumbling rejoicing water at my feet and the canopy of a 
sheltering pine above; and there from the neatest little 
woven basket Yin unfolded a really very decent spread, 
and a prepossessing bottle of beer which he put in an 
icy gush of the river to cool. Then, respectfully retiring 
behind another rock, he fell to himself. 

I ate hungrily and finished up with delicious fruit— 
and a sense of summer calm over me, not entirely uncon¬ 
nected with a comfortable feeling of repletion. I lit my 
pipe and stared at the ceaseless change and never-change 
of the river. It had been singing that song of ripple and 
rush before the Manchu dynasty sat on the celestial 
throne, before the Mings, before history itself. Had 
life ever penetrated to those green silences where one 
could at most picture a wandering monk on his way to 
the hidden temple, or the distant sound of its bronze bell 
dropping from the heights? There could never have 
been any tempest of human passion in this quiet. Life 
would be a dreaming sweetness punctuated with prayers 
and the soft booming of the great bell from above. 

I fell asleep for awhile in the midst of my drowsy 
visions and Yin mercifully spared my slumbers, as he 
gathered up the fragments noiselessly and put all in 
order and sat down to wait with Chinese patience until 
my greatness should awake. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


7 


It was late when I awoke and I quickened up my steps 
on the climb, like a giant refreshed; and yet a queer feel¬ 
ing that must have begun in my sleep climbed with me 
and seemed to assure me that I knew the place. I didn’t 
in the least. How then did it seem familiar to me when 
we turned a scarp and came on a waterfall? The me¬ 
lodious thunder had haunted us for the last half hour. 
It flung itself down a gorgeous precipice between black 
pines—narrow, but so steep that the river was a madden¬ 
ing creature of the wilds leaping for life from some pur¬ 
suing terror behind. No doubt of it—some horror sat 
up in the mountains, and the water skirted it trembling, 
and then ran—rushed for its life, bruising and breaking 
itself into diamond spray in the fall. 

“It is called ‘The Flying Tiger,’ ” Yin observed sen- 
tentiously. And, oddly enough the name was not strange 
either to me. Queer—I recalled the lines: 

“I have been here before, 

But how, I cannot tell.” 

“ ‘The Flying Tiger,’ ” I said. “Then that comes 
from the Jade Spring up in the Two Dragon Mountains.” 

Yin agreed, looking surprised at my knowledge. But 
not nearly so surprised as myself. Of course I had read 
it somewhere and forgotten. 

“It is magic water up there,” he said. “Long ago was 
a great sage, like Lao-tze himself, and he drank always of 
that spring, so that it became full of wisdom—and those 
Who drink of the water up there become wise also and see 
hidden things; but lower down than here, it loses its vir¬ 
tue when men use it for the fields.” 


8 


THE TREASURE OF HO 

“Then the priest of the Temple of the August Peace 
must be very wise/’ I said, joking. “How is it he is so 
poor?” 

“They say he is very wise. The old days are as an 
open book to his wisdom,” Yin replied, striding steadily 
on. In China there is no fear of wisdom and learning. 
They are the adored, the envied of the humblest coolie. 
Riches take a very secondary place in comparison. But 
neither of us had much breath for talk, for the climb took 
all we possessed, though at thirty I was a decent crags¬ 
man in a small way. 

It was growing dusk when we reached a great grove 
of the most extraordinary pines I ever saw. I am no 
botanist and don’t know whether they are peculiar to this 
place or no. All I can say is that the huge trunks were 
like pillars of beaten silver, upholding a cloud of foliage, 
black and awful as night. Picture great cathedral aisles 
pillared with dull tarnished silver; picture a roof of such 
height that all detail is lost in the gathering gloom, and 
you have those strange trees, marshalled in a breathless 
quiet and waiting. It was dead silent, for the waterfall 
was now far below, and no words can express the weird 
solemnity of the place. 

Yin led the way, only his footsteps brushing along the 
forest ways; and suddenly, beyond the mourning trees, 
at last I saw the temple high above me. 

Now you are to picture a very strange and beautiful 
sight. It rose on three terraces, building above building, 
each isolated from the other but approached by steps; 
each surrounding a courtyard through which you passed 
to the steps leading up to the courtyard above. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


9 


In each paved courtyard grew these ancient pines with 
their ghostly silver pillars, and the courts were so small 
that the trees entirely overshadowed them—and already 
it seemed that night was sitting there with veiled face. 
Once there must have been many monks. Yin told me 
there were said to have been fifty. Now all was empti¬ 
ness and desolation and bats and owls made their home 
in the deserted cells. 

We climbed the rock path, expecting to see the priest, 
and went up the first flight of steps. Old silence reigned 
in the courtyard—not a sound! We passed over the 
cracked stone paving and climbed the second steps, and 
still it might have been a place of the dead, with the 
dusk gathering about us and groups of ghostly white 
belladonna lilies growing everywhere. The Chinese are 
a stolid race to all outward appearance, but I could see 
that Yin was uneasy. He kept close to me and looked 
about him constantly. 

And now we stood in the third courtyard and in front 
was a great building with outward-sweeping tiled roofs 
and the usual horned projections at the four corners to 
repel evil influences. It looked as if they might be use¬ 
ful here! The doors were wide open and we looked in. 

A great cavernous hall was before us, with a smell 
of dead incense and a faint lamp struggling in vain 
against the waves of darkness. The light was in a deep 
brass bowl and threw up a dim light on the colossal face 
of a golden Buddha above, dreaming the centuries away 
into eternity, the huge hands clasped on the knees in 
timeless calm. It was very strange to see this and this 
only in the dark. It rose out of it like a supernatural 


10 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


flower floating on a sea of blackness, and soared high into 
the unseen roof. Only that, and nothing else. 

It was the hall of worship, empty, deserted. We stood 
in dead silence, then Yin muttered what might have been 
a prayer and w'ent timidly backward into the open air 
outside. I lost him in the dusk when he was ten paces 
away, and still I stood, uncertain of my next step, alone 
in the great cavern. 

What was this? Soft footsteps were coming up beside 
me, a sound such as bare feet make. A figure detached 
itself from the shadows and the priest of the temple stood 
by me. I turned with a tingling shock to meet him. He 
passed me by and led the way to the door, so I saw him 
first in the gathering dusk. 

I must describe this man, for my meeting with him 
changed the whole course of my life. There are two types 
of Buddhist priest in China, the high distinguished faces 
of the old aristocratic race of scholars, and the stupid 
placidity of the men of the people. This was neither. 
What did he recall to my mind? I think it was the 
memory of the stern Spanish friars who burnt and bled 
Mexico into Christianity of a sort in the old days of the 
Spanish greatness. He had a cold, remote kind of look 
about him—a man who could keep a secret—a man of 
few words, accustomed so long to the solitude that he 
had become as much a part of it as the wild creatures 
that dwell in the heart of the woods. Indeed, I knew 
from Yin that he lived there quite alone, cultivating a 
little garden for all his needs, except that once a month a 
coolie came up with such things as decline to grow in 
gardens. There was something almost awful to me in 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


11 


the thought of any man living in this deserted place, alone 
with the snows in winter, cut off from all his kind. But 
he looked resolute and self-possessed. His robe, poor as 
the stuff was, was clean and cared-for. He greeted me 
with the masking Chinese smile. 

Of Yin he took not the smallest notice. Fate certainly 
approaches us in many and strange disguises. I saw in 
him my host of an idle month, and then good-bye for ever. 
Fate saw otherwise. He stood looking at me with a cold, 
fixed stare. 

I clasped my hands and bowed to him, standing at 
attention according to the strict rules of Chinese etiquette 
which I always followed in such cases. It recalled him 
to himself and he bowed with the utmost decorum, 
clasping his hands, moving them up and down and raising 
them as high as his forehead. The moment he spoke I 
recognized a man of education. 

“What is your distinguished age?” was his first ques¬ 
tion, and I replied as in duty bound that my undistin¬ 
guished years reached the number of thirty—when he 
politely rejoined that he should have supposed me at 
least twenty years older. 

So far all was formula, but it was then the strange 
thing happened. He leaned forward and stared fixedly at 
a gold locket which hung on my watch chain. Its 
peculiarity was that it bore our family arms—a cross 
with four smaller crosses, one in each space made by the 
large one. He drew back and looked at me with a keen 
question in his eyes. They flickered as he stared, and 
then narrowed over their secret; his face like a mask. 
I replied to the look. 


12 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“Do you know it?” I asked, touching the locket. 
Without a word he turned from the worship hall and led 
the way to the smaller buildings that flanked it. Yin 
followed, bowing incessantly. 

The priest never noticed him. 

“They told me a guest was coming, a gentleman of the 
West. His name they did not tell. Is your name 
Mallerdean?” 

I never can express how extraordinary the name 
sounded, mispronounced by a Chinese tongue and yet 
unmistakable. Mystery was walking like a ghost in the 
shadows of the courtyard. 

“That is certainly my name. How do you know it? 
They must have told you.” 

“That told me,” he said, and pointed to my locket. 

“Impossible,” I said, staring at him. He turned away 
without a word. Yin followed and, bowing humbly, 
asked to be shown the rooms we were to occupy. The 
priest pointed to the left, and disappeared at once in the 
gathering dark, going toward the hall of worship. After¬ 
ward I found he lived in a room which opened into it. 

A cool reception, but it is very difficult to put a Chinese 
boy at a disadvantage where his master’s comfort is con¬ 
cerned. Yin followed his nose rather than the direction 
and took possession of three cells on the right of the 
courtyard, and in five minutes I saw a cheerful little light 
burning, and went in. 

The baggage had arrived before us with the bedding 
and stores of necessary food together with a little camp 
cooking stove which Yin prized beyond anything earthly. 
He set up a camp chair and table in the one room, and 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


13 


my roll bed on the floor beside it; brushed away the 
cobwebs from the beautiful stone latticed window and set 
it open to the pine-scented night air, flung a rug over the 
bed and its pillow, and there in ten minutes was a sitting 
room furnished complete. I dug out my books and writ¬ 
ing materials myself, and sat down to consider the situa¬ 
tion while a savoury smell arose from the next room and 
promised supper. Yin had taken no chances on the 
temple food for himself and me. 

I took off my locket and looked at it. The Mallerdean 
arms—no more—but the inside was interesting. It car¬ 
ried an oval miniature of the smallest size, of a man with 
powdered hair and a queue tied with black ribbon—the 
costume dating it at about 1790 as near as I could guess. 
The face was strong, handsome and haughty with drawn 
black brows and a stern expression; behind it, faintly 
indicated in the right-hand corner, a ship. From this 
I had always thought it must represent some naval officer 
in civilian dress. I had once taken it out of the locket 
and found cut on the ivory back the one word “Vigila!” 
—“Watch!” and the man certainly looked on the Watch, 
ware and wakeful. Of its history I knew nothing. I 
had found the whole thing in the secret drawer of my 
father’s desk when he died. And naturally I annexed it. 
It was a striking thing in its way. 

Doubly so now. That in the hilly wilds of China I 
should find a man who recognized the locket Was very 
strange. Would he have recognized the face also? 
Certainly there had been Mallerdeans in China, but ex¬ 
cept for my romantic great-great-uncle they had stuck to 
the treaty ports and feathered their nests very comfort- 


14 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


ably there. No rambling over China for them! The 
counting-house and the pen were their weapons. 

I resolved I would tackle the priest next day and get 
to the bottom of the thing, and so betook myself to my 
writing. 

Yin had gone off to sleep in his cell. I knew that be¬ 
cause of the dead quiet that had fallen—only the tinkle of 
the stream running from a mossy fern-fringed spring in 
the rocks above the upper corner of the court. 

Suddenly I looked up. The priest’s face Was framed 
in the carved window, looking steadily in upon me— 
and even as I started up it was gone. I flung the door 
open and tried to search the night. No one there, but 
the dim light still burned in the hall of worship and sent 
a faint beam into the thick dark. Probably he was on 
his way to pray—that would be all. It was late, past 
eleven, and I had no curtain to draw across the window, 
so I undressed and lay down on the bed with an un¬ 
pleasant sense that those eyes might still be watching 
with their searching curiosity. I went to sleep. 

Suddenly—whether soon or late, I never knew—I 
awoke. A great storm was raging. I could hear the 
wind beating wildly on my door as if clamouring for ad¬ 
mission—a shrieking, howling night. It rushed in with 
such frenzy at the carved openings of the window that I 
felt what I thought was rain wet on my face. At 
first I had a wild notion that people were speaking in 
the courtyard, that I heard a cry for help. I leaped up 
and stood rigid, listening. Yes, some one was speaking, 
and I heard footsteps and a sound of jarring bars as 
they were dragged back in their sockets. What on 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


15 


earth—? And then I remembered that travellers are per¬ 
mitted in some temples to use the worship hall itself as 
a resting place for the night if they come in numbers. 
That must be it. But how deadly cold the night had 
turned! Why, there was snow—actually snow on the 
ground. I could see it where the faint beam fell across 
its startling whiteness. Sleep was finished for me. I 
huddled into my clothes and the long wadded Chinese 
coat atop, which I used as a dressing gown. I would 
have a look for myself. The priest had had a secret to 
hide—I was certain of it. I would take the motto of 
my locket—“Vigila!”—and be on the watch. No use 
to rouse Yin. He had had a long day of it. 

I opened the door of the cell and stepped out. Yes 
—snow; it crunched under my feet. Snow in July. 
Pretty well for the August Peace Temple! It must be 
deathly cold in the worship hall. I walked straight up 
to the door—not two minutes away—and found it shut. 
That again was surprising. It was wide open when I 
‘went to bed, and here in the wilds no earthly reason to 
close it. 

I turned with a vague idea of calling to the priest, and 
as I did it my foot slipped and I fell back striking my 
head sharply against the edge of the stone step. 

I suppose for a minute I was unconscious and that the 
snow and wind in my face brought me round, for when 
I could take stock of things again I was lying at the foot 
of the steps. But the shock had been a nasty one, and 
when I clambered up with difficulty I felt in my neck 
a shooting twinge and a warm trickle which was not 
snow. With shaking hands, sick, and giddy, I knotted 


16 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


my handkerchief over the wound and tried to think what 
next, and even as I thought I heard the jarring bars of 
the temple door drawn back. 

As the door gave there was an inrush of wind of such 
violence that it must have blown out the altar light, and 
it was from darkness like the mouth of the pit that I 
heard a man’s voice demand my business. 

English! The tones were very soft and cold, and 
somehow I got the impression a foreigner was speaking. 
I would have told my errand but a sudden trembling 
seized me and I could only stammer out that I wanted to 
be helped in as I had hurt myself. At the moment I 
could not for the life of me remember where I had come 
from or how to get back. “Help me in,” was all I could 
say. 

“That I cannot do,” said the gentle voice from the 
darkness. “Whoever comes here does it of his own will. 
But the door is open. Do as you please.” 

A roaring gust of wind seemed literally to shake the 
foundations of the rocks and to sweep wailing into the 
hall of worship. I staggered forward, feeling the way 
with outspread hands, and as the door clanged to behind 
me I fell forward in a dead faint. 

Whether hours or minutes passed I never knew for I 
had fallen into the gulf of the eternities where time is 
but a name. But, as I floated up to the surface of con¬ 
sciousness once more, a strange sight met my eyes. 

I lay in the hall of worship, but it was changed. Two 
camp lanterns stood on a pile of baggage at one side, and 
lit the small wooden stair that ran up into the loft above 
the colossal Buddha’s head—the upper end and the roof 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


17 


lost in the darkness. Whoever they were they had lit 
a fire on the empty stone floor, but it gave out no warmth 
though it sent a dazzling light here and there into the 
black shadows. 

I raised myself on my elbow with a sense of expectancy 
and looked round. It was the strangest moment. The 
scene was set, the stage was empty, and I knew (though 
how I cannot say) that the drama would follow. The 
storm had planned it, the priest was an accomplice, and 
Fate had plotted with the two to bring me here at the 
moment—the moment for what? 

Suddenly as it seemed (for whence they had entered 
I could not tell) two men stood by the fire talking, as 
heedless of my presence as if I were a dream in a world 
of shadows—talking eagerly in quick, low voices. Their 
dress was curiously old-fashioned, dating from a period 
I could not place, but certainly a hundred years ago, 
and I noticed that on the hand of the elder was a diamond 
which must have been of great value, so vivid was its 
icy sparkle in the firelight. He was an elderly man, with 
handsome features, haggard lines about the eyes, and a 
weak mouth that betrayed a life spent in dissipation. 
His companion was as finished a scoundrel in appearance 
as ever I am likely to see in the years left to me, a hawk’s 
beak of a nose, colourless light hair, and eyes set deep 
and close together—obliquely Chinese, and therefore very 
strange in a Western face. 

Instinctively as when one sees a snake I half rose into 
a defensive posture, but the noise my feet made on the 
stone, though it sent a lost echo clattering up the stair, 
attracted no attention from them. 


18 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“I have told Dorothy my mind, Captain Vernon, and 
you may count on her obedience,” said the elder man. 
“If she seem to hang back a little that is a modesty 
which we soldiers know how to appreciate, and it must 
be humoured. But there is no real ground for un¬ 
easiness.” 

“I am well aware of the value of a father’s influence 
with so dutiful a daughter, Colonel Keith,” the other 
returned with an undisguised sneer. 

I recognized the voice at once. It was the one that 
had bidden me enter, gentle and cold, but with some¬ 
thing indescribably treacherous and malignant in its 
gentleness. 

“Yet there are certainly obstacles,” he continued. 
“The lady has set her heart on John Mallerdean. There 
is no denying the fact.” 

I rose to my feet as the words reached me. My name? 
What could it mean? I forgot my Wounded head— 
everything around me; but as I moved a slight rustle 
from above sent my eyes upward, and I saw a white face 
like a wan moon looking down from the darkness of the 
loft upon the men—a face so wild and piteous that the 
sight of it actually caught my heart. She was frozen 
into the attitude of listening; no breath seemed to come 
between her strained lips; she was framed in an atmos¬ 
phere of terror. As I looked Shelley’s vision of the 
Medusa crossed my fevered brain—“Its horror and its 
beauty are divine”—and a cold aura of sympathetic fear 
shot through me. I listened—as breathless as she. 

“John Mallerdean!” said the elder man angrily. “Im¬ 
possible madness! There is that between his family and 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


19 


mine that should make my daughter shudder to look 
upon him. His cursed father! His spy of a mother— 
God forbid! Before we left England I had reason to 
curse them, and the dog of a son has done me what hurt 
he could.” 

A horrible twisting spasm crossed his face, but he 
rallied and went on: 

“Our blood would not mix in the one vessel, and shall 
I suppose—” 

“Oh! suppose nothing, sir, on my authority, I beg 
you!” the musical voice replied. It paused a moment, 
then continued: 

“Who am I to read the secret of a woman’s heart! 
Call the young lady. Question her. Look, there she 
goes! What! Hullo! Whoop!”—and, raising his 
hands to his mouth, he gave the huntsman’s cry as he 
flung his head back and grinned at the gallery above him. 

The shock of the sudden change from blandness to 
coarse insult, the noise volleying through the emptiness 
of the hall, had the effect of a blow, and I leaped for¬ 
ward to protect the girl since for a moment he made as 
if he would rush up the stair, and only helpless shame 
was written on the other man’s face. But she was gone 
—only darkness looked down upon us as from an im¬ 
memorial haunt; and he was saying with the gentlest 
composure: 

“One cannot be too lenient or considerate with these 
frail creatures. If her heart has gone wandering after 
John Mallerdean, blessed be the peacemakers, and can 
we blame her?” 

“But cursed be the children that disobey their 


20 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


parents,” interrupted the old man wildly. “And there 
is more in it than that, Captain Vernon—my debt to 
you—the mortgage! It is you she must marry. I have 
no choice. Though if I had, my esteem for your char¬ 
acter would make me fix on you for her husband before 
any other.” 

“Spare my blushes, sir—I have long been sensible of 
your over-generous estimate of my qualities.” 

Captain Vernon put the compliment aside with a mel¬ 
ancholy gentleness. 

“Would that your lovely daughter shared it even par¬ 
tially, though that would be beyond my deserts. But no 
ill-usage can diminish my respectful adoration of that 
young lady.” 

His fixed gaze caught my own and directed it upward. 
Again the wretched girl, drawn by an attraction she could 
not withstand, was straining over the rail, her white face 
a dim spot in the blackness. He made no sound this 
time, but slowly and silently retracted his lips in a 
devilish grin, his eyes narrowed like a snake’s as he 
looked at her. It Was the mask of a dream that leaves 
you bathed in sweat in the cold dawn, and the frightful 
variance with his words and manner intensified the mean¬ 
ing of all. She sank with a faint cry, in a huddled heap, 
still clutching the rails. Another battering roar of storm 
assaulted the temple at that moment; the wind seemed 
to scream in at some forgotten door and fire and lights 
shot out tongues of flame and went out. Darkness! 
My head throbbed and again I felt that wet trickle upon 
my neck. 

Whether the time was long or short again I could not 


THE TREASURE OF HO 21 

tell, but after awhile I heard that hateful voice once more 
beside me. 

“Turn up the lights for the next act,” it said. “There 
is much to be done before dawh, and a man would not 
willingly have the face he loves hidden in darkness. Nor 
the face he hates either,” he added with equal gentleness. 

Fire and lights flashed up as if at a word of command, 
and I saw, but with the strongest sense of separation 
between myself and what I saw, the same girl, crouching 
in a heap of furs, in the flickering glare of the fire. Her 
little hand, so pitifully weak and helpless, had a ring 
of flashing jewels upon it, a singular jade pendant hung 
about her neck—the Imperial five-clawed dragon in 
purest green. Her riding cloak was of thick silk furred 
with sable that comes from the Imperial treasuries. Her 
long lashes showed the faint blue line of terrified eyes 
upon Captain Vernon. 

Behind her stood a young man, strong, handsome and 
haughty, with drawn black brow’s and a stern fixed look 
on the other. I knew him—I knew him!—the face in 
my locket. God protect me, was I going crazy? What 
mad dream was this? Captain Vernon stood, stroking 
his riding boots with his whip and speaking with the same 
sneering composure. 

“Mr. Mallerdean, your humble servant. I had learned 
that you were in retreat in the Temple of the August 
Peace. In a foreign country one can scarcely see too 
much of a friend. Unfortunately you have roused your¬ 
self too late to see Colonel Keith. He has gone forward 
to Peking with some of the men. His business admitted 
of no delay.” 


22 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


Mallerdean drew himself up stiffly. 

“I regret to say I have had occasion to distrust your 
word before, Captain Vernon, and I refuse to accept it 
now. Colonel Keith came here to meet me with the 
Emperor’s safe-conduct that we might transact the secret 
business you know of with the British warship in the 
Gulf of Pechili. It is impossible to suppose that Colo¬ 
nel Keith would have gone forward without meeting 
me. Especially as we had private business also to 
consider. Where is he? We are not friends, but a 
gentleman—” 

“A gentleman does not repeat his assertion, Mr. 
Mallerdean. I have told you; and when I add that Miss 
Keith is left to my care and that we follow her father, 
you will perhaps see it is as well you should retire.” 

No one replied. No one moved, except that the girl’s 
lips twitched as if in pain. He continued: 

“A devilish night indeed. What a night for a sinful 
soul to go out into the tempest! An odd fantasy. I 
have many such.” 

Looking all the while at their tormentor, the young 
man laid his hand gently upon the girl’s shoulder as if 
to reassure her, but neither spoke. She hid her face 
shuddering in her hands. The tap of the whip on the 
boot grew a little quicker. 

“This is a silent greeting. No inquiry as to my busi¬ 
ness, yet my business is of some moment. I have seen 
a girl of two years old in Peking—a girl with dark hair 
and blue eyes, not altogether unlike the gentleman I see 
before me, and I have heard some rumour of a private 
marriage some three years back before the Jesuit fathers 


THE TREASURE OF HO 23 

—a secret known only to the bride and her father. But 
these are ancient scandals.” 

John Mallerdean would have spoken, but she caught 
at him with a stifled cry. Captain Vernon continued: 

“Still no inquiries? Yet we must not misdoubt the 
heart because the words are few, and I know my good 
fortune in my bride-to-be. Well, madam, it seems we 
are alone in this vast place, we three. Let us come to 
close quarters. Let us be frank.” 

He was playing with them catlike, but suddenly and 
horribly the mask of courtesy fell away from his face. 
He flung the whip from him and laid his hand on his 
riding sword. John Mallerdean was apparently unarmed, 
but he stepped forward quietly. 

“I am here, sir, to protect my Wife. Oblige me by 
saying what you would be at. Your life is not safe for 
an hour in these wild parts without the safe-conduct. I 
have but to call the men—the Chinese have rough ways 
of dealing with an enemy. Keep back, Dorothy (he put 
his arm before her like a fence), I will not have you 
speak with this person.” 

“You will have, sir, exactly what I please—neither 
more nor less. But, to resume. We have known each 
other some years. Can you suppose I should overlook 
the matter of the safe-conduct? No. When Colonel 
Keith went, he left the safe-conduct behind.” 

A dreadful pause. The girl looked at him with staring 
eyes of horror. “My father was here—here—an hour 
ago!” she cried. “He is not gone. He said nothing to 
me. He would not leave me here. What have you done 
with him? If you are not a murderer, speak!” 


24 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“Hold her back, she is a fool!” Captain Vernon said, 
with those terrible eyes upon the man. “Is a man a 
murderer because he rids the world of a coward and a 
cheat? Keith promised me his daughter and all his ill- 
gotten gains, and he lied to me like a rogue and a scoun¬ 
drel. He knew she was married, and he patched up his 
quarrel with you because he knew you were high in Ho’s 
favour and wanted his share of the treasure. He was 
plotting here and now to get his goods and a part of the 
treasure sent off to the Arrogant and escape from me with 
his riches. He thought to gull me once more. Yes, my 
friend, and you were to meet them here to hide the treas¬ 
ure and secure your wife. I knew. What do I not 
know? But I know this also: You cannot do it. 
Hand over the treasure! I am beforehand with the 
three of you. I have settled my account with Keith. 
I have got the Imperial safe-conduct. My way is clear 
to the sea. Now, what of you?” 

John Mallerdean put his arm about his wife. He saw 
what was coming. 

“Don’t be afraid, my dear. We are together,” he said. 
Then gravely: “I guess what you have done. No need 
to be more particular before a woman. Spare her what 
you can.” 

“Spare her? Did she spare me? No! Did you 
chance to observe, as you came up to the temple, a pre¬ 
cipice above the river? It will be a wet lying place at 
the bottom. I could find it in my heart to pity the man 
or woman who lies rotting there until the Day of 
Judgment.” 

“So that is it,” said Mallerdean with stern brevity. “I 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


25 


own you have won. I did not foresee this, though I 
should have known you. What is your determination? 
Yet there is an account no man can escape, and such 
as our case is, I prefer it to yours.” 

Vernon laughed in his face. 

“Each man to his taste. The riches are mine, the 
woman is mine. The men are in my pay. I propose you 
should join your father-in-law in his present lodging. 
For myself and the lady a honeymoon at the Temple 
of the August Peace, and then, according to her behaviour 
I shall determine further. I have never shown myself 
inflexible to the sex when I find them obliging. And 
now, having paid off one old score, and cleared the way 
for the next, we may leave words and proceed to deeds.” 

He drew some letters from his flap pocket, and as if 
at a signal, I saw two heads rise noiselessly from behind 
the heap of baggage—Chinese faces horrible with an ex¬ 
pression of dull malice that would make them fit tools 
in the hand of the more accomplished villain. 

The scene was set indeed. The strangest sense of 
reality and unreality swayed me to and fro. I must 
warn them—what power kept me silent? I cannot tell, 
and Words fail before the strangeness of such an experi¬ 
ence. But it seemed that a film of years was between us. 
I could almost have touched her dress with an out¬ 
stretched hand, yet she was so remote that the storm 
might have been blowing through leagues between us. It 
was as though I were held immovable in the vise of a 
dream, with the wolves stealing ever nearer. 

Suddenly she rose from the chair and advanced, her 
hands pleading for her. 


26 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“I protest,” she began in a choked voice; but he 
waved her gently behind him. 

“Protest nothing, madam—I have asked you no ques¬ 
tions. I make no accusation. Your turn will come 
later. Have the goodness to resume your seat, while I 
ask Mr. Mallerdean if he has ever seen this letter—or 
this?” 

He had attracted his attention and mine by holding out 
two letters singularly sealed. I swear I heard no sound 
but the yell of the wind, but I saw him raise his right 
hand With an awful quick glare at the man behind Mal¬ 
lerdean. 

Now, how Mallerdean guessed or knew I could not tell, 
but a strange and pitiful thing followed: He also raised 
his hand, as if in entreaty, and the other drew back. 

“I hope I know how to die like a man, Captain Vernon, 
and I am in your power. You hold the winning cards, 
but I make a last request and I will buy your consent 
With the great emeralds the Emperor gave me, as is 
known to you. I will tell you their hiding place.” 

There was greed in the pale, glittering eyes. He made 
a signal of delay to the brutes behind. Mallerdean re¬ 
sumed, standing stiff and straight: 

“I wish to embrace my wife before I die, and to say a 
last word in her ear.” 

“Agreed—agreed! How came I to overlook them! 
Where are the jewels? I am not the man to refuse the 
last request even of an enemy. But no delay. Time 
passes; the dawn is at hand.” 

“I will tell you where they are when my farewell is 
said.” 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


27 


Mallerdean advanced, strong and tall, as the other 
made way for him and held back the Chinese with a 
gesture. He stooped over his wife, and laid his cheek 
very tenderly to hers. I saw him whisper in her ear and 
she smiled faintly and put her arm about his neck. And 
then—oh, most pitiful!—I saw a thing so fearful that I 
can scarcely write it—the flash of a dagger in his hand, 
and he had plunged it into her heart! She slipped 
heavily from his arms to the floor. 

“We do not leave our women to the mercy of half- 
breed traitors,” he said calmly. “We commit them rather 
to God. I am ready to follow her. Take your pay and 
your damnation. The emeralds are sown in the collar 
of my coat. The treasure is in my leather portmanteau.” 

Livid, with his face Working like a beast’s, Vernon 
said no word but made the last signal. And in a second 
a cloth was flung over Mallerdean’s head and drawn in 
a slip-knot about the neck. There was a choking cry 
as he fell beating the air with his hands, and one of the 
Chinese put a heavy knee on his throat and looked up 
dumbly for further orders from his master. 

How that face changed! How the hidden writing of 
hell flashed out legible in its white glare of joy. 

“Good!” he cried. “Bind the hands too—he is a 
young man, young and lusty. Bravely done! Stronger, 
stronger—while I look to the lady!” 

I saw him raise a knife such as sailors carry in the sea¬ 
port towns; and his teeth showed in a line of white from 
the retracted lips. Again the lights dwindled, and storm 
and shadows possessed the evil place. Then in a dim 
flicker of the dying fire, I saw them dragging something 


28 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


dark and heavy from the open door into the night, while 
the woman lay not ten feet from me with the smile of 
which no cruelty could rob her. In one last leap of the 
flame I saw an awful face with its beastlike grin pressed 
upon the window-panes for a moment as they passed out¬ 
side, and as the eyes met mine and for the first time 
seemed aware of my presence, the wound burst out again 
upon my forehead and I pitched forward upon the stone 
floor, not fainting, but absolutely collapsing in the grip of 
a fear that was inhuman and deadly. 

A wet dawn straggled faintly up out of the east; the 
wind had raved itself into exhaustion and a gentle cease¬ 
less rain like a broken-hearted weeping fell all around me. 
I struggled to my feet. I lay in the courtyard at the foot 
of the steps, where I had fallen: my left knee felt stiff 
and strained, and a cut crossed my temple. There was 
no snow—the rain was warm and kind. Had I walked in 
my sleep—had I dreamed? I hobbled up the steps and 
walked into the hall of worship. There was no baggage; 
the stillness of centuries, the smell of dead incense 
brooded there immovably, and the colossal Buddha, half 
lost in the shadows of the roof, bowed his age-long peace 
over the little transient flicker of the lamp at his feet. 

I looked at the place where I had seen the fire burning. 
No sign of it—the dust—the sand of the sea of Time— 
lay undisturbed. 

The stiffness went off as I moved and I went slowly 
about, searching carefully for any trace of the scene 
branded on my brain. None—none! Could a night¬ 
mare be so detailed—so vivid? Or was it a frightful 
truth? 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


29 


As I stood, revolving the strange thing deeply, I heard 
soft footsteps crossing the hall, and the priest came out 
of the room adjoining where he lived. His head was 
bowed: he muttered what might have been a prayer as 
he came, passing a long rosary through his fingers. On 
seeing me he stopped short and the beads fell at his side. 
I saw his eyes travel slowly to the cut on my forehead 
and to my wet clothes, my haggard looks. Without any 
sign of astonishment he spoke: 

“You have seen.” 

No question: an assertion. 

“I have seen,” I said. “Was it true?” 

“It was true.” 

“Then if so, where are they now? Where have they 
gone?” 

He laughed—a strange laugh. There is a bird in 
China that laughs like that in the woods at some ghostly 
joke that touches his unknown humour. 

“If I could tell where they have gone, I should know 
more than even the Blessed One, the Exalted Lord, 
vouchsafed to say. They have gone whither their karma 
led them along the road of implacable justice. Perhaps 
in other lives they are even now atoning or receiving their 
reward. You have the appearance of a wise man. Do 
not ask idle questions.” 

But I would be neither annoyed nor deflected from my 
questions. 

“If you know this much, you know more, and I will 
have the truth. What is this scene of horrors that I saw 
here last night? If it happened a century ago, how is it 
that I saw and heard it last night? If it is an illusion 


30 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


you have called up by some wicked magic—and I know 
some of your people have the gift of bewildering the 
brain—then tell me the truth; for I warn you that I will 
never give up until I get the truth, and the more so be¬ 
cause a man of my own blood was apparently concerned 
in it.” 

He saw I was in earnest. He stood with his eyes fixed 
on the ground, considering. I waited his time. At last 
he raised his head. 

“It is the hour for prayer and your wound needs atten¬ 
tion and rest. Come to me in my room this evening as 
the sun sinks and I will tell you what I know, and will 
show you certain things that it will take time to bring 
from their hidden places.” 

He moved on to the altar. I bowed and turned away. 
No use to press him then. 

When I had changed my things and dressed the cut, 
and Yin had made me some tea, I lay down to rest and 
fell into a deep and undreaming sleep. Indeed I slept 
for almost the whole day, for when the boy brought me 
my midday food, I ate it and fell asleep again the moment 
it was done. 

It was almost evening when I awoke, refreshed in mind 
and body—strengthened, steadied, ready for anything. 
But for the priest’s words I believe I should then have 
set the whole vision down as the result of the blow on my 
head. I had read Francis’s book, “Delusions Caused by 
Injuries to the Head,” and, conscious that archives of 
horrible stories might be compounded of these ingre¬ 
dients, I don’t hesitate to say that would have been my 
conclusion, and that I might even have pieced out the 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


31 


trains of thought that had started my vision. However, 
as the sun touched the western horizon I went to the 
priest’s room fully prepared to meet him on any point. 

He was sitting with a rough table before him and cer¬ 
tain papers on it, and rose and bowed ceremoniously, 
standing until I took my seat in the strange, primeval 
place. There was a window filled with beautiful stone 
tracery, all interwoven dragons and monsters of cloud or 
ocean. The walls were rough stone, the floor the same. 
It might have been a cave. Indeed, in one corner I saw 
ferns growing, and a shoot of some wild vine had found 
footing in a crevice near the ceiling and hung a green 
drapery down that side of the wall. Small grey lizards 
crept about, flicking very successfully at the flies. The 
door into the weird hall of worship stood open. 

He began in his refined Chinese of which I omit the 
many honorifics. “You desire to know the meaning of 
what you saw last night. It was illusion, and yet truth 
also.” 

“Explain,” I said briefly. 

“It was truth in that it happened in that very place 
more than a century ago. It was illusion, because you 
saw it as one sees a reflection in water. But what truth 
and illusion are and where they separate, who can tell?” 

He meditated a moment, then continued: 

“In the days when this thing happened, this temple 
was in imperial disfavour. There were no priests but one, 
and he an old man who would not desert the service of the 
Exalted Buddha. On a certain day he received what he 
believed to be an imperial message. It was written with 
the Vermilion Pencil. He was to provide shelter for an 


32 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


English gentleman well known in China because he had 
saved the life of the late Emperor Ch’ien-lung in a pain¬ 
ful disease. And shelter also for another Englishman 
travelling with his daughter and servants. And their 
commands were to be obeyed. No reason was given. 
He obeyed, as we obey in China, without question. But 
he marvelled because it was winter and the snow heavy 
on the ground, and in the forests. 

“So, a few days later, came the Englishman who had 
served the Emperor, with his servants and wrapped in 
sables like a great lord, and what he did the priest could 
not tell for by day he never saw him. And two days 
after him in the grey twilight came the other Englishman 
with his daughter, and following them a man of the mixed 
blood. The father and daughter he placed in the hall of 
worship, for they had much precious baggage, and for the 
woman he made a sleeping place in the loft beside the 
head of the Holy One, because she would be near her 
father.” 

He paused here and opened a yellowed paper of the sort 
used still by the Court in Peking, commanding the priest 
of the Temple of the August Peace to do as he had told 
me. It was dated and looked authentic. He went on: 

“But the priest was deeply impressed by the fear of 
the woman and her father of the half-breed who followed 
them. He feared mischief; for how could he be respon¬ 
sible to the Emperor if harm should happen to the fa¬ 
voured ones under his august protection? What to do he 
knew not, but at last that he might watch, he hid himself 
in the corner of the gallery that runs behind the head of 
the Exalted One, and there he saw what you have seen. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


33 


What could he do—an old man and feeble and in great 
terror? You know what he beheld. I need not tell it. 

“Now, when all was over and the villainous half-breed 
stood rejoicing in his work, he sent the men who had done 
tiis will to drag away and hide the bodies of husband and 
wife; and, searching with care, he found a box that stood 
among the baggage heaped in the hall of worship, and he 
opened it by force and knelt above it, gloating on what 
was within—it contained such riches as the mind of man 
may hardly imagine. Great strings of pearls—jade cups, 
stuffs heavy with gold and such-like toys; and he stood 
gloating on these, little thinking that any beheld. And 
leaving the box a moment, he went to the cell hard by 
where the first Englishman had slept, and returned with 
his coat and a gold tablet. And when the priest saw 
the tablet, alone as he was in the upper darkness, he kow¬ 
towed humbly for he knew the sacred will of the Emperor 
written in gold, and understood the greatness of the 
murdered man. 

“So the half-caste villain ripped out the emeralds from 
the coat and fastened the box, having put a garment of 
little worth on top to deceive the eye if it were opened. 
And for awhile he lay and slept. Yes, he slept in that 
sacred place polluted with blood and with his crimes. So 
io the evil! ” 

I listened with breathless attention. What a drama! 
But nothing hastened the priest. He produced from 
among the papers and laid before me a small golden tab¬ 
let with an inscription to the effect that John Mallerdean 
was to be regarded as having everywhere in the Empire 
the authority of a Chief Minister, and his concerns were 


34 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


to be forwarded by all loyal subjects with food, shelter, 
messengers, men and horses wherever he might go, he 
being under the imperial protection of Ch’ien-lung. 

It can be imagined with what interest I saw this price¬ 
less family possession. So it was true—the tradition I 
had always thought a wild exaggeration, to say the least 
of it, was here substantiated before my eyes. The priest 
put his hand over it and went on: 

“Then this old man, weak and alone, considered what 
he could do to carry out the will of the Emperor and 
avenge his honoured servant. It is not lawful for a serv¬ 
ant of the Exalted Lord to shed even the blood of an 
animal, much less that of a man, and he was a student of 
the law which promises ages of punishment and torture to 
any such transgressor. Yet—so it seemed to him—better 
even this than that the favoured of the Emperor should be 
unavenged, and this monster pass forth to do further 
cruelties. I know not if he were right or wrong.” 

“Right, a thousand times!” I said hotly. “If he felt 
this, he showed the spirit of a man.” 

“You cannot judge. You have sat at the feet of an¬ 
other Teacher,” he answered, and went on undisturbed. 

“So, creeping like a ghost by the sleeping villain he 
went down through the snow to the room where certain 
medicines were kept, and there, choosing his ingredients 
with care, he compounded that poison known as the 
Draught of Immortality, and having done this, he went 
to his own cell and lay down as if in a deep sleep. 

“And when it was near dawn the villain came, ready 
for his journey, and he looked in through the window and 
the priest could feel his eyes on him, and he made as if he 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


35 


slept heavily. But the man waked him and, showing the 
safe-conduct he had stolen, demanded food and four more 
men to carry his baggage, saying the others had gone for¬ 
ward and he must follow. And the priest bowed and re¬ 
quested the honour of offering the ceremonial tea to one 
so favoured by the august sovereign.” 

He paused, as if unwilling to continue. I urged him, 
breathless with interest. But of the death he would not 
speak directly. It touched some deep horror in his soul. 
He resumed after a pause. 

“Now, when the men returned from concealing the 
bodies, that wretch lay on the snow as if struck by light¬ 
ning. No mark upon him—no sign, but a dead face of 
horror. And the priest standing before the hall of wor¬ 
ship, pointed down to the carrion and bade the men flee 
for their lives from the vengeance of the Exalted One and 
of the Emperor—whose hand reached to the very extrem¬ 
ities of the empire. And they turned without a word and 
fled.” 

He stopped as if the story were ended, but I was pre¬ 
pared with questions that must be answered for much 
might hang on them. 

“How was it you knew this?”—touching my locket. 

“Because, when the dawn came and the men were gone, 
the priest went by a way he knew to the foot of the prec¬ 
ipice where The Flying Tiger river leaps to the waterfall. 
Two of the bodies, the old man’s and the girl’s, were 
washed away in the water, but the younger man’s had 
fallen short, and he lay there bruised and broken but 
noble in death; and, giving him such burial as he could 
upon the bank, the priest brought back this—” 


36 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


He produced from beneath the papers a gold watch, 
heavy and large, inclosed in an outer and separate case of 
gold, with the Mallerdean arms (the cross with the four 
smaller crosses), and an inscription inside the case to the 
effect that it had been given to John Mallerdean as a 
token of gratitude by Abel Kenne, of Calcutta, merchant. 
It was attached to a broad fob chain, and a locket with 
the same arms and an agate seal hung to it. The mystery 
was explained. 

“Then,” I asked, “what became of the box containing 
the jewels and other valuables ?” 

“They are here. The priest sent a messenger to the 
imperial footstool announcing what had happened and 
requesting punishment for his inability to protect the 
august visitors, and the sacrilege of taking life. But no 
word came. He waited long, but nothing was heard, and 
who was he to question the celestial will? Therefore, he 
invited another priest to take his place in the temple be¬ 
cause he was no longer worthy, and he went away up into 
the mountain wilds and there, becoming a solitary, he 
lived and died in expiation of his crime.” 

“Another question. There was a child of that mar¬ 
riage. Do you know anything of her?” 

“This only. She was placed in the honourable family 
of Wang, and when she reached her fifteenth year she 
was wedded to a great minister. It is said there was 
lately a daughter with black hair and eyes like sapphires 
in the Li family in Peking. More I know not. And now, 
since I have answered many questions, may I ask one of 
my honourable guest? Who are you?” 

I felt a reply was his due. I told him as shortly as I 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


37 


could my name, my position and the family history in so 
far as it concerned John Mallerdean. He listened with 
the gravest attention; and when I had finished, he spoke 
in his turn: 

“Since more than a century has gone by and these 
things are unsought, and from the throne no word ever 
came, it seems to my insignificant judgment that you 
have the heir’s right to them. You shall see them to¬ 
morrow. And now it is time for my evening meditation. 
May I offer you tea?” 

The Chinese signal for the dismissal of a guest, but 
I delayed a moment for the question which interested me 
most of all. 

“Why did I see this wonderful thing? Has it been 
seen by any other person, or was it my kindred blood 
that opened the shut door? I earnestly ask you to 
speak clearly on this point.” 

He stood up facing me, a remarkable figure, tall and 
calm. 

“You have a right to what I can tell you. Certainly 
kindred blood is much and the spirits of the ancestors 
have strange powers. When you approached this place 
did no vibrations, no instincts of memory and fear wake 
in you? But as for the means—what he had seen could 
never be effaced from the mind of the priest who had 
seen it. He dreamed of it, brooded over it; it became 
a part of his life. Also he rightly considered that the 
knowledge of these things should be preserved. It might 
be a matter of imperial concern. But he dared not write 
it. What is written may be seen of any eyes. So he 
made use of a Buddhist knowledge to preserve and con- 


38 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


tinue the secret, and so made it known to his successor 
here under an oath that it should be shown only to each 
successive priest of the temple. This knowledge is a 
power of the mind whereby one man may make another 
see what he wills, as if he himself had witnessed it; and 
by this means many secrets of Buddhist lore are handed 
down through the ages. And when I came here the 
secret passed on to me, and I, too, was compelled to see 
that horror.” 

“Wonderful. Most wonderful!” I said. “So that, 
as if in a picture, a thing that has happened may be pre¬ 
served for ever?” 

“Even so. We have all seen—and there have been 
five successive priests—what you have seen. And as for 
you—when I saw the trinket at your chain I determined 
to throw open the gate, knowing that if you were of the 
same blood, you must see; not otherwise. You have 
seen. I show you the treasure. There is no more to 
say.” 

And he courteously dismissed me. But how it was 
done he would not tell nor could I guess. In all I have 
seen of Western hypnotism and its allied arts or sciences, 
the practicer and the subject must be together—there is 
the almost visible influence passing between the two. 
This had certainly not been the case here as far as I 
know. But what do I know? In the West we are be¬ 
ginners, stumblers, in these matters. In the Orient they 
walk with assured steps on a way they have known for 
ages. 

The next day he showed me the ancient box of heavy 




THE TREASURE OF HO 


39 


leather and its contents. There was a string of pearls 
of extremest beauty—clear mellow lustre of purest water, 
moonlight crystallized in the ocean. There were four 
chains of exquisitely carved jewel jade, such work as is 
not done now in China even for the mighty. There were 
two of smooth jade of the right young beech-leaf green. 
There were chains of cord and gold, gold sheaths for the 
lengthy fingernails of the noble, encrusted with jewels. 
There was a great loose sapphire, blue as the ocean in 
a calm. There was a cup of jade and crystal of amazing 
workmanship with the Imperial dragon in gold for a 
handle. I could imagine that as the object of frantic 
competition among the connoisseurs of the West. There 
were—but why write an inventory? Only the jewels and 
objects of art had survived—among them a magnificent 
landscape of the Tang period, worth untold gold to any 
museum as I well knew. 

But the furs were moth-eaten, the precious gold and 
silver brocades were tarnished. Only the loveliness of 
their design and texture was left them—the rest was 
lost beyond hope of restoration, as I judged. 

Lastly, he displayed six glorious cabochon emeralds, 
deep and green as the stillest deeps of ocean. And then 
I spoke my mind. 

“These things,” I said, “are not mine, if any direct 
descendant of John Mallerdean lives and can claim them. 
You say there is a girl in Peking descended from that 
marriage. When I return I shall make it my business 
to trace every link of the chain. The watch and the 
locket and seal I will take. I think I may fairly lay 


40 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


claim to these unless another claims them, and besides 
they may help my search. Do you agree with my 
decision ?” 

With the inflexible sense of justice that is a mark of 
the Chinese he agreed fully. If he could give any aid he 
promised it. He put the watch with its appendages at 
once into my hand, and together we repacked the box 
and stored it away in its dusty hiding place in the loft 
above the head of the golden Buddha. 

“This,” I said, “must be what they called the treasure 
of Ho. For the present let it rest. And show me no 
more visions for they are unwholesome for mind and 
body. I have come here for rest, and this dreadful thing 
has shaken me to the soul.” 

He promised gravely and I saw no more visions at 
that time. I passed my days quietly, studying, fishing 
in the wild river, climbing, and many times considering 
the possibility of a search for this girl who shared my 
blood, now lost like a drop of water in the ocean of the 
millions of China. I knew enough history to know that 
the great Emperor Ch’ien-lung had been succeeded oh 
the dragon throne by his very worthless and ineffectual 
son Chia Ching, and that therefore this horrible episode 
must have taken place in his reign; but not an inch of 
my way could I see. 

For a month I stayed and went in and out of the hall 
of worship in perfect serenity. For I knew it was 
haunted by no unhappy ghosts. They had long passed 
on their way to peace—the doors of sleep and silence had 
swung and shut them in, and from them there was noth¬ 
ing to fear. They were beyond even pity. But though 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


41 


they disturbed me no more I knew, and could not tell 
how I knew, that there was an urge in my blood I had 
never known before. It concerned the girl. She was 
theirs, a sorrowful memory of a great crime; and if 
theirs, mine also, a responsibility, a duty, something 
painful in the background of my mind that would give 
me no peace until I had sifted the matter. I knew that. 
Though I tried to forget, it was there. 

On the bright morning when I left the temple for the 
world, I stood looking up through the pines at the ter¬ 
races of the buildings rising above me. The priest was 
at the first steps. The sunlight fell through the trees on 
his sad Mongolian features and the deep yellow of the 
robe he wore. In spite of the sunshine an air of sealed 
mystery held the place like something hidden in the 
clench of a strong hand. 

For me—I have seen so much of the inner life of the 
Orient that I accepted the thing exactly as I had seen it 
and the priest confirmed it, only resolving that I could 
never possess myself of those riches if the woman still 
lived who had the better right. That was plain justice. 
And if I could find her I would not leave her among an 
alien people but by her own choice. The fate of a 
woman may be very terrible in China—not by any means 
what I should choose for a daughter of my own people. 
As I turned to go, the priest made a sign and I ran up 
the steps to him again. 

“Take this,” he said, “I had forgotten it. It is the 
ornament the girl wore about her neck. An imperial 
jade dragon. It may help you in your search. And 
take also the blessing of the Excellent One upon a pur- 


42 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


pose which is just and rightful. And go in peace. Also, 
if you need aid that I can give, it is yours.” 

He laid in my hand a small dragon of the most costly 
green jade, but with this peculiarity—that a vein of rose 
jade ran through the stone and had been cleverly utilized 
by the cutter in the wings of the beast. A freak of na¬ 
ture which might not happen once in a thousand years 
and an amulet such as any woman might love! A small 
gold ring inserted at the back made it a pendant. And 
also on the back were the two characters which signify 
honour and long life. The last prediction had certainly 
not come true. 

I accepted both gifts with gratitude and sprang down 
the pathway again to overtake Yin who was stolidly lead¬ 
ing on. The pines closed their impenetrable gloom be¬ 
hind me like the shutting of a gate. 

The past was past. I went on in ignorance to meet the 
strange future. 


CHAPTER II 


W HEN I came down into Peking from the 
Temple of August Peace the plunge into 
daily life and work was startling. I had 
been living with visions and the atmosphere pursued 
me. By a marvel of Buddhist lore the past had been 
reproduced for me as in a speaking picture and the 
thing made me restless. I had always taken an in¬ 
terest in the occult writings of the Taoists and other 
mystery teachers, and now I set to work in earnest that 
I might understand, if possible, the singular thing that 
had befallen me. I sought the company of such Chinese 
scholars as work in these underground passages of truth, 
and many and strange were the things I encountered, 
but none that specially fitted my own experience. It did 
not occur to me then that they were withholding knowl¬ 
edge for which they did not judge me fitted. It is very 
difficult in the Orient to find the key for the lock that 
guards the Mysteries. I was so hard-worked that heaven 
knows I ought to have had no time for all this, but I 
made it, and in all I did there walked ghostly beside me 
the vision of “a girl with black hair and eyes like sap¬ 
phires,” as the priest had described her—eyes beautiful, 
memory-haunted and very strange among her own people. 
Was there something in her nature, also, exotic as those 
blue eyes which made her an alien in spirit? If so, how 
43 


44 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


pitiable might be her fate, how tragic her doom! She 
haunted me, for in her veins ran drops of my own blood 
and we Mallerdeans have always been staunch clansmen. 
Woe be to the man who lays a little finger on one of the 
clan. There were never many of us and we hold to¬ 
gether, and as a matter of fact that girl and I were the 
only two left of the Devon Mallerdeans, and for any 
others I care nothing. Sentiment perhaps, but family 
sentiment goes a long way. And there was more to it 
than that. There were the pearls, the grass-green em¬ 
eralds, the jade and other splendors hidden away in the 
dusty loft behind the colossal head of the Buddha, and 
I wanted these things for myself as the next heir of the 
Mallerdeans, the John Mallerdean who now represented 
the man so wickedly done to death. I think that desire 
was not unreasonable. But she came first and therefore 
the question of her life or death was one of immense 
moment to me. 

I made careful notes of all I had gathered from the 
priest. First, came the daughter of John Mallerdean. 
His wife had been a Keith of Keith, and there is no 
better blood in the world. In musty mercantile records 
at Canton I discovered that a Colonel Keith had been 
known there in the eighteenth century trading in furs and 
ivories. From Scotch friends I ascertained that a Colo¬ 
nel Keith of Cumbrae had sailed from Leith for China 
six years before—his wife a daughter of the Lauderdales. 
John Mallerdean’s daughter was well born at all events! 
After her parents’ murder she had been “placed in the 
honourable family of Wang.” And “in her fifteenth year 
she was wedded to a great minister.” That was all, my 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


45 


sole information. I had, of course, the jade dragon and 
my knowledge of events at the temple, but common sense 
told me that all this was a hopeless sort of business to 
start on. Her marriage would probably be the most 
outstanding event of her life. I turned my speculations 
in that direction first. 

Allowing the murders to have taken place at the end 
of 1799, that would bring us to about 1815 for her mar¬ 
riage as near as I could guess. The girl I now was look¬ 
ing for might easily be her great-great-granddaughter, 
for China marries early, a Chinese girl lost in the tre¬ 
mendous space of the Chinese empire among the million 
Li who figure in that clan. It was a pretty hopeless 
lookout. I sent a message to the priest to ask if he could 
give me any clew to the Li family in Peking, and had for 
answer that he had heard they occupied a house at one 
time near the Hsi Yuan, the Western Park. I went at 
once to that quarter and could not hear that any such 
people had been known there. Of course to a Chinese 
conversant with the history of his Court the marriage 
of a great minister with a foreign bride might be possible 
to trace, but on the other hand, it was quite possible that 
the story of her birth might not be generally known. If 
she had powerful protectors they would very likely con¬ 
ceal it, especially in the lifetime of the Emperor Chia 
Ching, who had no reason to love John Mallerdean. 
Then, she must have had a Chinese upbringing for she 
Was but two years old when she passed into the hands 
of the Wang people and to them I had no clue whatever, 
and Wangs are as common in China as Smiths among 
the English-speaking peoples. 


46 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


Why, the girl may never have known her own story— 
very likely did not; and if the marriage excited no com¬ 
ment it must have long ago slipped into the dust of ages 
except for some dim record in a family history I could 
never know. 

And yet I was firmly resolved that the matter should 
not drop. I was up against it somehow, even apart from 
the money involved. And I had quite unusual chances 
in my almost unique acquaintance with Chinese ways 
and means, for there was not another man in Peking at 
the time who had so many native acquaintances and 
could come and go as I could. That helps all the time in 
a country that is really a sealed book yet. 

But Peking loomed before me vast, mysterious, sinister, 
shut against a foreigner who wishes to probe into any sort 
of mystery. Unless indeed he had money to spend 
lavishly and astutely, and that was very far from my 
case. 

Eighteen months went by and I knew no more than 
the day I left the temple, and still the thing haunted me. 
The impression strengthened instead of fading. I would 
sit and stare at the small jade dragon which the dead 
woman had worn about her neck, beautiful and precious 
with the vein of rose jade that cut into the purest green, 
and wish for some Buddhist enchantment to make it 
speak and declare its hidden history. I would take out 
John Mallerdean’s watch from its outer and separate 
case of gold, with the Mallerdean arms richly embossed 
upon it, the cross with the four smaller crosses in its 
spaces. These things possessed me. They set my mind 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


47 


working like a mole in every underground direction that 
could lead anywhere. But always sooner or later I was 
up against the impossible. What could I do? 

It was one day as I sat with the watch and locket be¬ 
fore me that it struck me as strange that the locket should 
be empty. A man who so loved his wife and could so 
seldom see her would surely carry her picture about with 
him. I touched the spring as I had touched it a hundred 
times before and looked at the empty ovals within. It 
was of English workmanship—some trinket he had 
brought out when he came to China, old and worn, the 
engraving faint on it, but nothing—no clue. I was just 
going to put the things away in my dispatch box, when 
Mutrie, a man I knew well, came charging into the room 
to ask me to go out with him to the race-course, and with 
the instinct of hiding them—I don’t know why, but I 
never could bear anyone to see them—I tried to snatch 
up the watch and dropped the whole show on the bare 
floor, and clumsily set my foot on the locket. 

“By George, you’ve done it properly this time!” said 
Mutrie. “If that’s your best girl she won’t forgive you 
in a hurry!” 

He pointed. The gold was bent and dented, the little 
glass ovals were smashed, but the breakage had revealed 
two inner ovals hidden beneath the outer ones, unglazed 
because they were thus protected. And in one was the 
miniature of a girl and in the other of a child. 

Then it rushed on me. Of course John Mallerdean 
would hide them. The marriage was secret, the birth 
of the child was secret. But in this way he could feast 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


his eyes on the dear faces, and who in the world could 
suspect that the empty locket carried his life! 

But that was no time for thought. I “drew in my 
heart,” as the Chinese say, and made nothing of it to 
Mutrie. I had it safely in the dispatch box, and we 
were talking of horses five minutes after, and we went off 
to the race-course, and I put the thing resolutely away 
from me until I got back to my diggings in the street 
near the French Legation, and locked my door and got 
the treasures out once more. I pulled the electric light 
close and began to study the faces. 

The girl’s I knew at once. It was stamped on my 
mind by the frightful scenes I had witnessed at the 
temple. Not strictly beautiful, but lovely, pale and 
sweet and infinitely tender, the large soft eyes looked 
out with a transparent candour that must have wrung the 
heart of the man who loved her in secret. The brown 
hair was piled high on her head in the fashion of the time, 
and a little Puritan muslin crossover hid the spring of 
the delicate throat from the bosom, and the only orna¬ 
ment she wore was a gold chain sustaining the jade 
dragon that lay before me on the table. The utmost 
pains had been' taken with that costly mark of the 
Emperor’s favour, whereby I judged the artist to be 
Chinese. Somehow, looking at the face lying before me 
—so gentle, so womanly—and knowing the frightful 
doom that had caught and crushed her, the piteousness 
of the story moved me more than I like to say. I turned 
•to the child. 

A handsome child—not a bit like the mother, dark 
and vivid. I should say with any amount of inborn char- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


49 


acter and energy. I opened the locket I myself always 
wore and laid it beside the others—the man with pow¬ 
dered hair, handsome and haughty with his straight black 
brows and queue tied with black ribbon, and the ship 
faintly indicated behind him. 

John Mailer dean and his daughter! I would swear 
to it in any court of law. No mistaking the child’s 
straight black brows, and firm, beautifully cut mouth and 
rebellious hair. The only thing she had of her mother 
was the blue eyes under those noticeable brows, and on 
these the artist had insisted because of their unusualness. 
He had made them bluer, I think, than they could have 
been in life, a deep gentian blue. But they had her 
father’s expression, strong and proud. I would wager 
that the great Minister of State who married that young 
lady found no docile Chinese wife behind the veil when 
for the first time he raised it. What had her fate been, 
with those eyes and that English blood burning in her, 
and all the cruel precedents of China pressing upon her 
young head! 1 did not like to think. I put the things 
away, more profoundly resolved than ever to track down 
this strange family history to its end, bitter or sweet. 

But the big outer world was now to take a hand in 
my affairs. 

It was the spring of 1900 and the Boxer trouble broke 
like a deluge on Peking. Of course it was not un¬ 
expected by the Chinese. I who had been born and 
brought up in China knew well that 1900 was believed 
by them to be a year marked out for misfortune. It 
opened with evil astronomical omens, a state of affairs 
likely to bring its own fulfilment. And Shantung was 


50 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


seething with the “Plum Blossom Fists,” as the Boxers 
were originally called. There Was certainly big trouble 
brewing, but all the foreigners continued hopeful and un¬ 
believing. The Old Buddha, as the Chinese called the 
Dowager Empress, had never shown herself so amiable. 
She had received the ladies of the diplomatic corps, a 
thing unheard of, and had dismissed them charmed with 
her beautiful gifts, her candid gentleness, and what they 
were pleased to call the girlish abandon of her delightful 
manner. And it was she who held the key of the crisis, 
for the weak Emperor, whom she had put on the throne, 
was a trembling puppet in her hands. Who could fear 
anything? Nevertheless, hordes of Boxers poured into 
Peking. Providentially there were men in the legations 
who knew the August Aunt (as she was also called) bet¬ 
ter, though, when it was announced that a guard of 
foreign troops was due from Tientsin to strengthen the 
legations, many wise heads were sorely distressed, fear¬ 
ing the Empress would be pained by the want of confi¬ 
dence thus displayed. Pained! Good God! 

But I must not dwell on the outside history of the time. 
It is only as it bears on my own extraordinary quest that 
I must touch it. So I will simply say that when the 
storm broke every European man, woman and child was 
ordered into the legations for the bare chance of life, and 
the very people who had scorned the precautions were 
the first to hurry in. 

Peking was in the hands of the Empress and the Box¬ 
ers. It is then the Orient becomes terrible. One cannot 
tell how the Oriental mind is working, and frightful 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


51 


dreams of unspeakable sins and cruelties possess the soul. 
The chief called on us all in the service to collect and safe¬ 
guard the records, shut down the business and go in with 
the rest. Perfectly right and reasonable, but my mind 
was made up before the crash came. I knew exactly 
what was due, better than many of the big bugs, and no 
credit to me. A man has a pull who is bom and raised in 
China and speaks Manchu as well as Hakka, that queer 
halfway-house tongue between the far-apart languages of 
the North and South, the southern Cantonese and the 
Mandarin of Peking and the North. Mandarin, of 
course, I spoke fluently, for that was in my daily work. 
But that was not all, by any means. When you re¬ 
member that my people had been doing their bit in China 
for more than a century and a half it is nothing to write 
home about if we Mallerdeans know a little more of the 
Chinese mind than the Johnny Raw who comes out via 
Singapore and Shanghai with his mouth and eyes at full 
stretch and himself like wax in the hands of the first cun¬ 
ning Chinese comprador who takes the trouble to gull 
him. You’re not afraid of a fellow, you understand, and 
I knew by instinct when the Chinese were spoofing or 
when it was time to stand from under. I had now re¬ 
volved all this and said at once that I would stay outside 
and do what I could in the interests of our department 
and otherwise while the siege lasted. 

Well, of course they talked when it came to that. My 
chief sent for me and said it was entirely unusual and that 
I was a hot-headed fool who should know better at thirty. 
And when his breath and patience both petered out I said 


52 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


a siege of the legations was also unusual and that I had 
reasons. I was asked to state them. 

Then I weighed in. I pointed out that it might be very 
handy for the besieged to have a friend outside with 
rather special means of conveying news. That, as he 
himself knew, I had once passed quite successfully for 
a Manchu from Sungaria under rather queer circumstan¬ 
ces. That I had seen quite a bit of life in Chinese dress, 
and had spent two summers in Mongolia before I was 
broken in at the Customs. Lots of fellows in the Indian 
Civil Service know twice as many tongues as I, still it was 
helpful. 

I also mentioned that I thought the Manchu dynasty 
was going to have troubles apart from those it was asking 
for. A race of conquerors from the North, they have al¬ 
ways despised the Chinese as their subjects, and I felt 
pretty sure—but that comes later. 

He replied that the Japanese had the best information 
and the best means of getting it of any of the Powers, 
and that they, more than any others, insisted on the fright¬ 
ful dangers. He also wanted to know (ironically) 
whether I had ever heard of “the lingering death” and 
cared to run the risk of that specially Chinese invention. 
I told him I had not only heard of it but had seen 
it, and had no intention of being the star of such a show. 
That any sensible person who is around when China is on 
the move, invariably has a little cyanide of potassium 
handy in case of difficulties, and that I really believed that 
might prove as easy a way out as many of them would be 
likely to have behind the legation walls. Tn a word, I 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


53 


would take the responsibility. He agreed finally, for he 
saw the point of an outside friend who knew the ropes, 
and next day they all went in, and I stayed out, and a 
very queer time began. 

Of course my initial plans were made beforehand. I 
went back to my diggings, put on my Chinese dress—no 
queue necessary at that time—slung the jade dragon 
about my neck where it would not meet the eye, put John 
Mallerdean’s watch and appendages in a bag about my 
waist, with what ready money I had been able to get from 
the bank, now shut down, and went off to Yang Lien’s big 
house in the western quarter. I remember that I met 
Mutrie on his way to the legation with another man I 
knew, and they were babbling about all this being a flash 
in the pan. It would be over in a few days, and the Em¬ 
press would learn her lesson and the new era of civiliza¬ 
tion and commerce come in with a rush. 

Would it? I thought I knew better. Anyhow they 
little guessed that the tall Chinese who bowed politely as 
he passed them on Hata-men Street was John Mallerdean 
and a colleague. I never saw Mutrie again. He was 
shot a week later. 

But who was Yang Lien? 

A great man, a statesman, a friend of the Empress, 
loyal and true, until he dared to point out that her mad 
belief in the Boxers as the weapon for ridding China of 
the foreigner, would lead her into troubles that would end 
sooner or later in the ruin of the dynasty. A man of 
high blood and courage and integrity to match, and a 
friend of my dead father and of myself. 


54 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


I had known him since I was a youngster, when my 
father, taking me by the hand, marched me off to his 
great house and presented me in these words: 

“Excellency, here is a boy to carry on the tradition of 
the Mallerdeans and with it the respect and affection due 
to your house which has ever befriended and protected 
mine since there was a Mallerdean in China.” 

And he, receiving me very kindly, put his hand on my 
small head and replied: 

“My friend, in memory of that great deed done by your 
ancestor in rescuing mine from the floods of the Yangtze- 
Kiang and of the friendship between your family and 
mine from that day, I accept this boy as heir to it and 
my hand shall not fail him at need. He shall be as my 
son.” 

I looked up into the fine middle-aged face clear and 
serene as if cut in old ivory, the very epitome of all that is 
aristocratic in birth and nature, and liked what I saw. 
After that his doors were always open to me, and that 
led to other matters which played their part in my great 
adventure. Now I went straight off to ask his advice 
and follow it. I need hardly say I had my own quest 
full in view. In this mighty upheaval many hidden 
things might come to the surface. There is nothing like 
fishing in troubled waters. 

Impossible to describe my astonishment when I found 
the big courtyard full of Boxers and Kansuh soldiery. 
The orderly precincts looked like a camp of gipsies and 
ruffians, and a moments anxiety seized me lest my good 
friend had gone mad with the rest and joined the Em¬ 
press’s party. But it would take a lot to make me be- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


55 


lieve his calm good sense had run amuck like that. I 
drew my coat closer about me to avoid the filthy ruffians, 
as any Chinese gentleman might do, and walked on 
through the narrow lane they had left to the house. 

No one from the very ordinary street outside and the 
blind front presented to it could have guessed the really 
beautiful sight within. Yang Lien’s family had been 
wealthy for the last two centuries and he himself was the 
third Minister of State it had produced. The court was 
nobly planted With trees—the trees that modify the stern 
secrecy of Peking as you look down from the surrounding 
walls of the city, and the main building lay well back, 
approached by handsome stone steps. Inside, a delicious 
coolness modified the summer heat, for the rooms were 
very large and lofty, built with a view to light and air, 
and, though not crowded, magnificently furnished with 
rarest specimens of the craftsman’s art in carved woods 
and priceless lacquer. The hangings in the first recep¬ 
tion room were of rich silk of imperial yellow (by special 
favour of the Emperor) nobly embroidered with flying 
phoenixes and dragons, and ancient bronzes were relieved 
against them with gigantic porcelain urns and basins in 
which flowers and dwarfed trees were growing delight¬ 
fully. Being summer, the magnificent carpets I knew 
well had been taken up and replaced with floor coverings 
of woven bamboo peelings delicately painted—cool and 
clean. Nothing more austerely beautiful could be im¬ 
agined than this great room where many of the greatest 
Chinese statesmen had often met for two hundred years 
to discuss her affairs. It looked into a private garden 
whereof more later. Needless to say I had never seen 


56 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


the women’s wing of the house, though I knew from Yang 
Lien, and from his son Yang Lu that besides the first 
and secondary wives, there were four fair daughters of 
the house. 

I sent in my Chinese card by the servants at the door. 
I should, of course, have properly sent a sheet of red paper 
before me with the words “Your servant desires to bow 
his head before you and to offer you his respects,” but 
there had been no time for this and I judged that the 
omission might be pardoned at such a time. The answer 
came quickly: “It will give me pleasure and I beg the 
guest to enter.” 

Immediately the two centre leaves of the door were 
flung open in my honour, and I entered the hall, finding 
the master, Yang Lien, ready to receive me at the foot 
of the short staircase leading to the room I have 
described. 

He was an old man now, but a beautiful one, more 
dignified, stately and calm than ever. 

The wildest imagination could not picture any man 
venturing on a liberty with this great Chinese gentleman. 
He gave and expected studied courtesy, and to me, whom 
he had known from a boy, his greeting was as ceremo¬ 
nious as to a distinguished stranger, and though I knew 
he had a sincere affection for me, it never infringed upon 
that fine dignity. I liked it—I liked it still better than 
the coarse rough and ready familiarity of the West. I 
will, however, spare the honorifics in our talk, but he 
motioned to me to precede him, though I protested, and 
he then -followed me into the room. Many bows were 
exchanged; with the rich silk of his robe he dusted the 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


57 


spotless seat of the chair I was to occupy. I did the 
same for his. I bowed to my chair before I sat in it, and 
we both finally took our places. 

Naturally I waited for him to speak. His face was 
sad and careworn, there were deep lines about the eyes. 
I had not seen him for a couple of months and the change 
was marked. 

“My son,” he said at length, “you are come in a sad 
time, yet a good one, for I have wished to see you. My 
heart is heavy for friends in danger, and it has dwelt most 
of all on you. There is a dark hour at hand. Nay, it 
is here already.” 

He looked in the direction of the courtyard. 

“My honoured protector and father,” said I, “I am 
come to seek your wisdom. My friends have all departed 
to the legations, but I do not follow them. I remain 
outside.” 

“You have doubtless a good reason? You do not dis¬ 
guise from yourself that the danger is very great?” 

“I do not disguise it, but I have good reasons.” 

His innate courtesy forbade inquiries. He looked 
thoughtfully at me for a moment, and then said with 
perfect serenity: 

“My son, you should know my position, that you may 
judge whether you can speak with freedom. To you 
I know I may speak safely. You have known me high 
in favour at the Palace. The Motherly Countenance 
(the Empress) has ever been turned on me with benevo¬ 
lence. Now, it is so no longer. Her Majesty is pos¬ 
sessed with the belief that in the Boxers lies the hope of 
deliverance for our country, and since I have ventured to 


58 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


lay the truth before her, a cloud has passed before the 
sun and I live in darkness.” 

He paused and I dared not speak. I knew he had a 
sincere affection for the Empress. Strange and terrible 
woman! I have never known one who had known her 
well who could resist her charm. None could explain it. 
None could resist it. There had not been a moment, 
there Was not now, in which Yang Lien would not have 
laid down his life, not only to save hers, but to rescue her 
from any mistake political or private. 

“These men you see in the courtyard,” he resumed, 
“are there by no will of mine. The very sight of them 
is to me as the precipice to the tiger at bay. But it is the 
will of her Majesty that they should be fed and sheltered 
and I obey, though I see in them the curse of my coun¬ 
try. Look at them (he pointed to the circular side win¬ 
dow) ! It is this rabble that is believed to have magic 
powers, to be under the direct protection of the divinities, 
and this when you may go out and see their dead bodies 
lying in the street where the foreign troops entering to 
guard the legations shot them! It is as if a madness had 
descended upon our greatest. The Emperor, her nephew, 
is a helpless puppet in her hands.” 

“But surely, most honoured,” I ventured to say, “the 
Empress herself cannot believe in their magic?” 

“Cannot she!” He laughed bitterly. “She repeats 
the Boxer charm seventy times daily: ‘I am the Spirit 
of the cold cloud, behind me lies the Deity of fire. In¬ 
voke the black gods of pestilence.’ And every time she 
repeats it her chief attendant shouts: ‘There goes one 
more foreign devil!’ What is to be done in such a case? 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


59 


I saw her Majesty last night and even her divine wisdom 
was so beclouded as to say: ‘The foreigners are like 
fish in the stewpan. For years have I lain on brushwood 
and eaten bitterness because of them, nursing my revenge. 
Have I not hidden my hatred? Did I not invite their 
women to my Palace? But now, if the country will hold 
together, their defeat is certain.’ I tried in my humility 
to lay the truth before her august feet, but she would not 
hear me and I came sorrowful away. Therefore—” 

But, interrupting him, there came with awful sudden¬ 
ness the great boom of guns. The bombardment of the 
legations had begun. He turned away and hid his face 
with his sleeve, for a moment, and I dared not intrude 
upon his thoughts. A great tumult followed amongst the 
rabble in the courtyard, wild cries of rejoicing, the shrieks 
and yells of devils let loose. I listened With terrible fore¬ 
bodings, not for myself, but for my friends within those 
ill-protected walls, and for Peking itself—and worse. 

Presently he turned to me, composed as ever. 

“My son, you now know the facts. Her august Maj¬ 
esty will proceed in her course until she learns by the 
bitter experience which alone dares be truthful with great 
rulers. Now, knowing I am in the shadow of her dis¬ 
favour, is it still your wish to tell me your reasons for re¬ 
maining in this bloody tumult? Do you still care to 
trust to the protection of a fallen man? If so, speak in 
the sure knowledge that what counsel and help I can give 
are yours.” 

Now this was an extraordinary generosity. He had 
put his life in my hand by his criticism of the Empress. 
Well, he knew his man; and I knew mine, and then and 


60 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


there spoke out. Of course I had sounded him long ago 
as to the marriage of the Mallerdean girl with a high Min¬ 
ister of State, but as he appeared to know nothing I had 
let the matter drop and it Was long forgotten. Now, how¬ 
ever, it was better to be perfectly open and take the view 
of one who knew the China of both worlds—the aristo¬ 
cratic and the peasant. 

I begged one half hour of his precious time, and when 
he agreed, with the unwearying courtesy of the true Chi¬ 
nese gentleman, I told him the strange story of my vision 
at the Temple of the August Peace and the intention that 
sprang from it. Part of the story was not new to him. 
Like all high officials of old descent he knew a great deal 
more than I did myself of the secret services of the 
former John Mallerdean to the Emperor Ch’ien Lung, the 
greatest of the Manchus. I had often picked up most 
interesting bits of information from him on this head, 
enough to give me hope of chronicling some day my fore¬ 
bear’s amazing adventures. Colonel Keith’s name he 
knew also. But when I came to my vision in the Temple, 
he, listening with grave attention, unconsciously drew his 
chair nearer mine and leaned forward in intense interest. 
Not by a word, a breath did he interrupt, however. Even 
when the story was finished he observed the deliberate 
silence of the Well-bred Oriental who must avoid haste 
and emotion as marks of the low-born who neither know 
nor follow the Rites which are the guide of Chinese life. 

Finally, since I also was silent, he spoke calmly. 

“This story interests more than yourself. As a man 
pulling on a silken thread may draw a great rope to his 
hand, so you with this slender clue have opened great mat- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


61 


ters. Prepare yourself to hear what will surprise you.” 

I bowed and thanked him, but first ventured the ques¬ 
tion whether he had ever seen or heard of this strange 
Buddhist art of perpetuating the pictures of the past, and 
whether he thought I might rely on what I had been told. 

It was curious to hear his quiet voice dealing with hid¬ 
den things and punctuated by the coarse shouts and 
laughter of the Boxer troops in the courtyard. 

“My son, undoubtedly you may believe. There are 
temples in the North, more than one, where the Emperors 
and high officials thus may see the past recorded while the 
mind of man endures. There is also a secret place where 
a man may see the picture of his future, but of this I will 
not now speak. And of what you saw a part is known to 
me to be true. Now hear me. The Emperor Ch’ien 
Lung in his later days exalted to the highest honours a 
man named Ho, risen from the people, but w J ell taught 
and of a swift brain. In the imperial service this Ho 
amassed such wealth that to this day he is remembered 
as the richest man in China. And the man who served 
this Ho and did his will far and near was your ancestor, 
John Mailer dean. It was through John Mallerdean that 
negotiations were opened with the English that finally 
led to their first mission being sent to Peking in 1795. 
So if Ho was a great man John Mallerdean was £ a 
small great man,’ and he carried the Emperor’s tablet 
of gold and went where he would on the errands of 
the Emperor and Ho, and great was his power with 
the English traders at Canton. But John Mallerdean 
had many enemies, because his master Ho grew so 
great that even the imperial princes feared him. It 


62 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


is the truth that to Ho’s son the Emperor gave an im¬ 
perial princess for bride, and such an honour is like 
the too heavy fruit that breaks the branch it grows on, 
so, it was known that Ho Would not be long in follow¬ 
ing when the aged Emperor should die. Ho himself knew 
this, and it is told that for years before the Emperor 
Ch’ien Lung ascended on the dragon (died) he had been 
gradually conveying a part of his great wealth into hid¬ 
ing in a temple unknown. And among that wealth was 
the mighty pearl known as ‘The Glorious Good Omen’ 
which excelled even the pearl worn in the imperial hat, 
which is called ‘The Azure Dragon Instructing Poster¬ 
ity/ and also many noble rounded emeralds brought five 
hundred years ago across the desert from the Ural Moun¬ 
tains—emeralds of a value almost beyond purchase. 
And much beside.” 

I started. I had seen them. I knew where they lay 
now. The pearl of Good Omen I had not seen. 

“You know them,” he continued calmly. “It is well. 
Never until this moment has any man known where Ho’s 
vanished treasure lay. It is possible, even certain, that 
more must be hidden than you saw. It is known, for it 
is recorded in the imperial edict announcing Ho’s disgrace, 
that he possessed two hundred pearl neck chains, more 
than three thousand rubies of the greatest size, jewelled 
trees of coral and more than I can recall. But it is also 
recorded that much of this had vanished when the men 
of the Emperor plundered his hoards, nor did any man 
know by what means he had sent these costly matters into 
safety. Now the truth is before me. It was by the hand 
of John Mallerdean who, having the golden pass of the 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


63 


Emperor Ch’ien Lung, could go where he would.” 

He paused and I meditated deeply. The Keiths—how 
did the Keiths come into the story? Could it be possible 
that part of the jewels were to have been sent to England 
for safety? Colonel Keith, if not John Mallerdean, was 
certainly bound for the Arrogant, a British warship. At 
all events it seemed—and here I own to a bit of disap¬ 
pointment—that the treasure after all was not John Mai¬ 
ler dean’s. He was but an agent, it appeared. That dis¬ 
covery might have far-reaching consequences. I was 
about to speak when we saw the ruffians outside gather¬ 
ing their weapons and streaming out into the street, yel¬ 
ling like wild beasts famishing for blood. The frightful 
cries of men and women shrieking in vain for mercy an¬ 
swered them. Even Yang Lien sprang to his feet, and 
I made a rush for the door—mad to help somehow. He 
caught me by the coat, his face the colour of death. 

“Stay here. Stir not on your life!” he said sternly. 
“I must go to the Palace and see the Benevolent Mother. 
What is my life or the life of any if this massacre can be 
stopped? But no foreigner must be seen, or she will 
never intervene. I will shelter you while a roof remains 
to me; there is no other choice for you now.” 

I implored him to delay if it were but for half an hour, 
for it was only too plain what was doing outside, but he 
put me quietly aside. Standing by the window I saw him 
hurrying through the Boxers who scarcely moved to make 
way for the old nobleman. It was evident that the dis¬ 
pleasure of the Empress was commonly known already. 
I trembled for him—so short a step was it in China be¬ 
tween power and death. 


CHAPTER III 


I MPOSSIBLE to say how long I waited nor the 
strangeness of that dreadful time. I had much to 
think of if I could have thought at all, but it was im¬ 
possible. The Peking I knew was falling into visible ruin 
before my eyes. The thin crust of safety and daily habit 
was broken up to disclose the lava boiling beneath. I 
know this might happen in any great town and in many it 
must happen before this century is out—but, standing by 
the window and looking out on the brutal and hideous 
faces thronging there, I knew exactly the meaning of the 
lightly uttered words—“hell broke loose.” 

Now, when what I guess to be an hour had gone by, 
someone entered the room, moving as noiselessly as a leaf 
in the air. I heard nothing until he was at my side, and 
I swung round then to face a man, dressed in a long 
straight coat of sober grey silk, bowing low: 

“Benevolence, I am come—” he began, and then 
started back, and I could see that behind the large horn 
spectacles he wore to conceal the defect, his eyes were 
utterly sightless. 

“It is a foreigner,” he muttered. “The great of our 
people do not move like that. The smell is different of 
the robe, the hair— Sir, I beg your august pardon, but I 
supposed that the noble Yang Lien was in this room. 
Compassionate a blind man and say where I can find him. 
It is more than urgent.” 


64 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


65 


“He is gone out some time since/’ I said briefly. 

“That is no foreigner’s Chinese,” he said low and anx¬ 
iously. “Do I speak to a friend of Yang Lien’s and to 
whom? Does it not say in the classics that the wise will 
always aid the blind since their eyes, closed to earthly 
sights, are open to secret things?” 

“It is also said in the classics,” I rejoined, “that the 
wise man’s tongue is lame in unknown company, and 
these are times for care. Who are you who question 
me?” 

“I am the Blind Man of Hupei!” he answered without 
a moment’s hesitation. And then it flashed upon me. I 
knew—I had heard of him often in that house and in oth¬ 
ers—a man deprived of his sight by the cruelty of the 
Dowager Empress because on an unlucky day he had be¬ 
come possessed of a secret injurious to her honour. Up 
to that time he had been in high favour, an astrologist, a 
horoscopist without whose advice nothing could be done, 
who almost controlled her daily actions, but from that 
time a ruined and blinded outcast. On the spot she 
handed him over to the Palace attendants for torture, and 
his life would not have been worth a minute’s purchase 
but for the strange fact that he had been born in the 
same hour and aspect of the planets as herself, and with 
all her courage she dared not put an end to his life that 
might be ominous for her own. 

The Blind Man of Hupei! Yes, those eyes had seen 
many strange things before they were darkened, but the 
tongue did not dare to utter them. I knew I might speak, 
for Yang Lien had befriended the man in his misery. I 
looked at him with the deepest interest. A patient 




66 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


ghostly face, profoundly intelligent, even lacking the 
spirit of the eyes, wan and hollow cheeked, tense with 
nerves and suffering. A remarkable man, a face to re¬ 
member. I noted, and spoke. 

“He is gone to seek an audience of the Dowager 
Empress.” 

He struck his hands together with a low moaning cry. 

“O Goddess of Mercy, pity and help him! She is mad 
with rage and folly. As soon turn a starving tiger from 
a lamb as turn the Manchu woman from the slaughter of 
the foreigner. Even now in the lanes and byways the 
Boxers are massacring the native Christians. The streets 
are running with blood—” 

He was interrupted by the most frightful outburst of 
cries in the city—Rachel weeping for her children if ever 
I heard it. A bugle had sounded, a shrill discordant note 
which was evidently a signal, and it was followed by the 
rattle of shots and these shrieks of despair. Again I 
made for the door—anything rather than listen passively. 
He caught me by the coat like Yang Lien, and with the 
same authority. I stared at him in astonishment. 

“Stay; be still; whoever you are. What are cries when 
so much worse is at hand? Tell me your name, noble 
person, I entreat you. You are not of our people for 
though your tongue is native my senses, which cannot be 
cheated, acting for my lost eyes, tell me otherwise. If 
you would help the benevolent Yang Lien, be honest with 
me. I am the faithfullest of those who love him.” 

“I am John Mallerdean,” I said with deep reluctance. 
I could not tell what to make of the man, but I knew 
Yang Lien had the highest opinion of him. He repeated 





THE TREASURE OF HO 67 

my name with a dazed air, passing his hand over the with¬ 
ered eyes. 

“John Mallerdean? Are you a tall man with hair as 
black as our gown and dark eyes and straight black 
brows? Have you a white scar on the left temple? 
Have you a watch with a cross on it and four smaller 
crosses in the spaces? Have you—” 

“Stop!” I interrupted, stemming the flow of questions. 
“I am the man you describe except for the scar. I have 
no scar.” 

“The watch?” 

“Yes, I have the watch. What does this mean? I 
shall answer not one more question until I know your 
reasons.” 

“Strange—no scar!” he muttered. “But that was in¬ 
delible. Am I dreaming or awake? In this eternal dark¬ 
ness how shall a man distinguish between fact and 
illusion!” 

I began to think I was in company with a lunatic. I 
liked the Blind Man of Hupei much less than what I had 
heard of him. 

“Obtuse and shallow slave that I am!” the dull voice 
muttered on. “John Mallerdean is dead a hundred years 
ago. The Flying Tiger river has washed his bones clean. 
Yet I have seen—I see him. And he and Ho laugh and 
mock me with the secret that the Imperial Lady would 
have spared my eyes to know.” 

I began to see a dim and doubtful light. The Empress 
—the Empress was on the track of the hidden riches! 
Then heaven help me! I adventured with the utmost 
caution. 




68 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“Had John Mallerdean a secret? He was of my ven¬ 
erated ancestors. I bow before his spirit.” (It is thus 
one must speak in China of the family dead.) 

“That is dutiful. That is well!” he replied eagerly, 
fixing what were once his eyes on my face. “Yes, a 
secret, a political secret, no more. You have no papers, 
nothing that speaks of it?” 

“I have nothing that may be told to strangers,” I re¬ 
plied stolidly. And then, with the booming of the guns 
about us, a wonderful thing happened. His features 
stiffened and fixed almost into a corpselike rigidity. His 
clasped hands relaxed and hung loosely down as his knees 
swayed under him, and he crumpled slowly backward 
into the great chair behind him. The strangest thing!— 
his head fell back, the neck sank into the shoulders. 
The Blind Man of Hupei was in the spirit—in the body 
no longer; the empty shell lay before me. Presently a 
thick voice, stumbling as if uncertain, gathering strength 
and certainty as it proceeded, broke from his lips: 

“The noble Yang Lien. I see—I see. He nears the 
Forbidden City. Through the Gate of Secluded Peace 
he goes in. His face is sad and fixed. He pushes aside 
the attendants who would stop him. Li Lien-ying, the 
Empress’s favourite, thrusts his body in front of him; he 
stretches out his arm. He says, ‘You shall not enter. 
The Old Buddha is furious. She will kill you if your 
nobility enters.’ He bars the way. But the noble 
Yang Lien goes on, on. He thrusts the big brute aside. 
‘I will see her Majesty. Make way for the State Coun¬ 
cillor. Make way!’ and Li Lien-ying falls back. So he 
goes on. I see Li Lien-ying hulking after him. 0 may 



THE TREASURE OF HO 


69 


all the spirits of his ancestors, all the spirits of the dead 
Emperors, protect him now! He nears the Hall of 
Peaceful Longevity. He goes in. He holds his head 
high.” 

The words were so swift, so dramatic that they held 
me. I saw the scene he depicted as if I had been present. 
Yes, Yang Lien would hold his head high in the presence 
of death and that was what he went to meet. But hush! 
there was more. 

“The Old Buddha sits on her state chair with the silken 
phoenixes above it. A girl is behind it, holding a cup—a 
beauty of the first order. Her coat is green satin em¬ 
broidered with the Peaches of Immortality and willows. 
Her hair is night black, her eyes blue—blue as the roof 
tiles of the Temple of Heaven. She stares in horror as 
the old noble breaks his way in. The cup drops from 
her hands. It breaks. 

“ ‘Sanctuary, sanctuary, your Majesty/ he cries. The 
Old Buddha rises, holding by her chair. She does not 
fear. She knows not what fear is. ‘What sanctuary do 
you need?’ she cries—‘here in this forbidden place where 
you should not be. Why are you here?’ 

“ ‘To bring the truth to your Majesty, the last gift of 
a life spent in your service.’ He makes the kowtow and 
advances on his knees. O spirits of the Emperors pro¬ 
tect him!” 

Clairvoyance. People talk of it glibly, but to see it 
thus is terrifying. I knew I was walking by this man’s 
aid where I could never walk. I was in the presence of 
the Empress, And the girl? Black hair and sapphire 
eyes. Was my brain turning? No. He saw. 



70 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“Kneeling, he speaks: ‘Your Majesty, your guns are 
turned on the legations. Humbly I recall to you that it 
is known to all the wise that these Boxers are miserable 
imposters. They have no strength, they have no magic. 
Only this morning forty Boxers were shot dead in Shuai 
Fu Lane and the altar of the magic was destroyed. Their 
Five Demon trick is child’s play. They are fools and 
they will ruin your dynasty.’ 

“The Old Buddha rises, in her yellow satin coat. The 
jewels and pins in her headdress glitter. She is terrible. 
The Motherly Countenance is wild with fury. ‘How 
dare you question my authority? Slave! Fool! 
These foreigners shall be exterminated before I eat my 
morning meal.’ 

“He does not waver. All men quail before the anger 
of the Empress, but he goes on: ‘My beloved Mistress, 
I would save you. True, you may have these men mur¬ 
dered. They are few and surrounded by many, but 
when they are dead, millions will avenge them. Will 
France, America, England, Germany, Japan, bear this 
insult? Has not Confucius said, ‘The person of the 
Envoy is sacred? Heaven will avenge him?’ 

“The girl, as if fainting, leans on the back of the chair 
and covers her face. They do not heed her. The Old 
Buddha screams with rage. 

“ ‘If I can bear this, what must not be borne? Trai¬ 
tor, you cannot know that these foreign devils have sent 
me a dispatch, insolently written as if to a slave, demand¬ 
ing my abdication, and that ten thousand foreign troops 
should enter Peking to restore order. You cannot know 
this.’ 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


71 


“ ‘I know—I know. But it is a forgery. It was 
forged in the house of Prince Tuan, the patron of the 
Boxers. Your Majesty is as the swimmer caught in the 
smooth water gliding to the falls. Your ministers deceive 
you. Have pity on yourself, my august sovereign. 
Send a gracious message to the legations. Did not Con¬ 
fucius say, ‘Display your benevolence to the strangers 
from afar?’ Dismiss every Boxer, every Kansuh sol¬ 
dier from the city. They are looting and murdering your 
own faithful subjects also. Pause— No, act , ere it is 
too late.’ 

“The Empress throws her clenched hand above her 
head. ‘Never!’ she cries. ‘These are the counsels of a 
dotard. Better go down in one desperate encounter than 
surrender my rights at the bidding of the foreigner. 
Speak not another word or you die.’ 

“But he will not be silent. O spirits of the great Em¬ 
perors protect him! Li Lien-ying is stealing up. He 
grins like an ape for cruelty and malice. Alas for the 
noble—the fearless! He goes on: 

“ ‘Extend your divine protection to your people whom 
these Boxers are murdering. They are like sheep led to 
the slaughter. We confront a war with the whole civi¬ 
lized world if the legations fall. Had the foreigners in¬ 
vaded our country, old as I am, I would have borne arms, 
but they are here in peace. It is madness, madness—’ 
She interrupts him. She will not hear. ‘Coward, cow¬ 
ard!’ she screams. ‘I had better ask counsel from this 
girl—she would have more spirit, I swear. Tell me, 
Sie, * would you be trodden under foot by the foreign 

* (pronounced See-ay.) 





72 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


devils if you were Lady of the Great Inheritance? 
Shame him! Let a woman tell him his duty.’ 

“The girl lifts her head. Her blue eyes glitter like 
swords. She does not hear the Empress. ‘He is right; 
he is right, oh, Benevolent Mother. Hear him!’ 

“ ‘Drag this wretched minion to the well outside the 
Ning Shou palace and fling her down. No—stay! 
Yang Lien, how know you the letter of the foreigners was 
a forgery?’ 

“ ‘Because, oh, Maternal Benevolence, I have seen it 
written.’ 

“ ‘Seen it? You lie. That could not be.’ 

“ ‘I have seen it through blind eyes—the eyes of the 
Blind Man of Hupei.’ ” 

As the blind man uttered his own name a spasm tore 
him. He writhed horribly in his chair—strong convul¬ 
sions wrenched his body like those of epilepsy. Then he 
relaxed. A slow monotonous voice from his lips uttered 
these words heavily as if each weighed like iron: 

“ ‘Then,’ said the Empress, ‘he is a man greatly gifted. 
A man of terror. Would I had not driven him from 
me!’ ” 

His head swayed aside. He was in a deep sleep. 

If I wrote for a year I could never express how that 
scene affected me. The impression might pass, but at 
that instant I felt I had seen the whole thing. The rag¬ 
ing woman, the steadfast man, the brave girl. And was 
it possible that in this wild vision I had struck the trail 
I sought? And Was she found only to be lost for ever? 
The well in the courtyard of the Ning Shou palace! 
Frightful tales ran about Peking of that well and what 





THE TREASURE OF HO 73 

its black depths could tell. What to do with the blind 
man—how to stimulate him to speech! 

I leaned over him; in a soft monotone I questioned 
him. 

“The girl? Did Li Lien-ying drag her away? Did 
Yang Lien plead with the Empress once more?” I went 
on, repeating these words, softly, loudly, insistently. 
Not a sound in answer. Hopeless. The Number One 
boy of the household came in and, after having made his 
obeisance to me, looked critically at the blind man. 

“The sight is past,” he said. “In this noble malady 
it is now necessary to apply water to his temples and 
administer a restorative. Else he may depart to the 
Nine Springs, and my lord would not lose him for many 
ounces of gold.” 

After this sententious opinion he departed and returned 
with a cloth wrung out in hot water—the custom of China 
—and laid it turban-wise about the passive head. It 
gave a strangely Indian look to the sad Mongol face. 
From a small bottle, he dripped a few unpleasant black 
drops through the lips. Then saluted me again. 

“He will now recover,” he said, and faded unobtru¬ 
sively away. 

I sat and watched—a queer sight. Faint thrills ran 
along the nerves of the face, like the trembling of leaves. 
The breath fluttered, stopped, and fluttered on. Finally 
he raised himself wearily in the chair. After a long 
silence he spoke very faintly: 

“I smell the coming of the evening. It is late. I have 
been I know not where. Is the noble Yang Lien 
returned?” 




74 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“You remember nothing?” 

“What should I remember, excellent stranger? I have 
these fits, and, alas for me! they hold me longer since 
the Maternal Benevolence deprived me of my eyes. I 
knock my head on the floor and entreat your forgiveness.” 

“Your piercing intelligence appeared,” I said slowly, 
“to accompany the noble Yang Lien to his audience with 
the Empress.” 

He turned his face vacantly on me. 

“It was in my dull understanding when the fit took 
me, but I know no more. Have I your august leave to 
depart?” 

“You inflict regret upon me by your determination,” 
I replied, in the best style of the Rites. 

He left the room as noiselessly as he had entered. 
After a minute’s thought I summoned the Number One 
boy. 

“Does that honourable person distinguish the house 
with his residence in it?” 

“Undoubtedly, Excellency. He is the guest of my 
noble master.” 

Time drifted by and Yang Lien did not return. I 
waited in terrible anxiety. The Old Buddha was quite 
capable of ordering his execution on the spot, and Li 
Lien-ying of carrying it out. Yet could she dare such 
a stroke? I knew that some of the princes realized the 
frightful danger of the course she was taking. I tried 
to calm myself—to hope the best. But it was a difficult 
task, for as the sun began to sink, the Boxer troops 
poured back into the courtyard, devil-faced, ragged, 
shouting, swearing the lowest oaths, dripping with blood, 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


75 


drunk with slaughter. Far be it from me or any other 
man to chronicle what I learned that night of their deal¬ 
ings with those “secondary devils who have eaten the new 
religion,” i. e., Chinese who have become Christians. 
And with many more with whom they had not even that 
poor excuse for massacre. They defiled the place. 
They made earth hideous. 

About that time Yang Lien returned. I watched from 
the window with what dignity he passed through those 
swinish hordes. I scarcely think he saw them. His fine 
old face was concentrated on some deep inward thought, 
and he came through them like a man through a field of 
wheat. Strange and terrible the extremes of human 
nature! I saw them then. 

He came in and saluted me courteously and ordered 
the evening meal to be presented. I had noticed how 
still the house was. Naturally in all my many visits I 
had known nothing of the women’s quarters, but some¬ 
times a birdlike cry, a sweet laughter, had reached me 
through closed doors. Now all was still as death. He 
noticed this himself, and sighed. 

“The house is quiet. I have sent my household to my 
house in the country. Well indeed that I did, when I 
behold the courtyard now. A word, a sign of my Mis¬ 
tress’s disfavour and we should be looted and burned to 
the ground.” 

“Well indeed!” I echoed, and there was a sad silence. 
He said little while we ate our dinner. True to Chinese 
traditions of dignity, it was served with all the formalties, 
though the courses were lessened in deference to the 
misery the times were to many; as a distinguished Man- 


76 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


chu wrote, rice had become as dear as pearls and fire¬ 
wood more precious than cassia buds. 

We executed the usual ceremonies of inviting each 
other to the most honourable seat and declining it for our¬ 
selves. But at last it was over. We raised our chop¬ 
sticks to our foreheads, and then laid them upon our 
cups, and adjourned to the room of reception where I had 
passed the afternoon. 

For a moment he stood, looking thoughtfully out into 
the courtyard where the men were sitting and lying by 
little fires they had lit to cook the food provided at his 
cost. Then turned to me. 

“My son, there are certain things I would say, for 
there will be little chance of talk between you and me 
after this night. The hand of the Empress is heavy on 
me.” 

I stared at him in consternation that forbade words. 
There was finality in his tone and it carried dread to my 
inmost spirit. He spoke with perfect serenity. 

“This person has the ill fortune to disagree with her 
Majesty’s policy. True, I am not alone. Jung Li, her 
counsellor from youth, entreats her to dismiss these 
Boxers and release the legations instantly, but, most mis¬ 
erable to tell, her supernaturally brilliant intellect is so 
possessed by belief in the magic powers of their leaders 
that she will hear nothing. Their fate is, therefore, so 
far as my humble perception can judge, sealed, and with 
it the fate of her dynasty. It is my ignorant conviction 
that in twenty-five years’ time there will be no Manchu 
Emperor in Peking and that China will be given over 
to rapine and disorder.” 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


77 


For the first time his voice trembled. Not for him¬ 
self, but for his country. For a few moments we were 
silent. 

“My honoured friend and father, what is magic?” I 
ventured to say. “What is true and what false? The 
Blind Man of Hupei was with me after you departed to 
the Palace, and he described to me all that took place; 
and if his tale be true, then, though I am no believer in 
follies like the Boxers, I must own there is more than I 
can understand.” 

He started slightly when I named the blind man. 

“He was with you, my son? What did he say? But, 
no. I will tell you what I dare of the interview and if 
his report was true, I will tell you more.” 

I listened with stark amazement, almost with fear, as 
he took up the tale. Need I repeat it? From the mo¬ 
ment he had entered the Gate of Secluded Peace all was 
as the blind man had seen it. There was no flaw in word 
or detail. To me, who was a student of psychology, it 
still appeared supernatural. But the interest of the story 
overtopped even that aspect of it. 

“Was the girl killed?” I cried out, when he came to 
that point. 

“No, she was spared. She is a favourite with the Em¬ 
press and that saved her life for the time.” 

“Was she forgiven?” 

“I cannot tell. She was forgotten, for when the blind 
man was named by me, the Benevolent Mother paused 
and said, 'He is a man greatly gifted. A man of terror. 
Would I had not driven him from me.’ And from that 
saying sprang a thought which I will tell you.” 


78 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


And still the guns were booming at the legations, while 
I listened to this evidence of the powers before which 
brute force is as nothing. How had that blind man seen 
and known? But the quiet voice continued: 

a Son of my friend, my days on earth are few. The 
breath is in my nostrils, and the headsman’s arm is raised. 
My owli son has taken my household to the Villa. They 
are safe until this madness passes. But he cannot re¬ 
turn. The Old Buddha would slay him, too. Will you, 
therefore, acting as a son, hear my last words and report 
them to him?” 

Who can describe these strange and poignant mo¬ 
ments? I, at all events, shall not try. I managed to 
control all signs of pity and grief. Quiet as himself, I 
ventured to touch his honoured hand as I assured him of 
my devotion. He thanked me in simple words and went 
on: 

“It is my intention to memorialize the Empress again 
to-morrow, for since leaving the Palace I hear that she 
has offered a reward for every foreign man, woman and 
child brought to her. They are to be instantly executed. 
The Emperor tried to move her, but is powerless. He is 
on tenterhooks when he speaks to her and the sweat runs 
down his face. But I do not fear her because I do not 
fear death, and it is needful that she should hear the 
truth. I shall ask her what glory we can gain by the 
slaughter of women and children, and suggest that they 
and the foreign ministers be guarded to the coast and 
embarked in safety.” 

He told me more, that I need not repeat, of his inten¬ 
tions, but enough to show me he was a doomed man. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


79 


Every one in Peking who knew anything of the Old 
Buddha could have foreseen that. But I could not in¬ 
sult him by dissuading him. It was his plain duty as a 
Counsellor of the Crown. To fail would be to rank him¬ 
self with the rats and foxes of the Palace who would be 
the first to desert the Empress when her policy brought 
its inevitable ruin. Next he detailed to me his wishes 
for his burial, that matter so near to a Chinese heart, 
and gave me instructions as to the even more important 
safeguarding of the ancestral tablets. He told me where 
his remaining treasure was buried, and then, having dis¬ 
charged all his worldly obligations with the final message 
to his son, he turned to outside interests once more. 

“Son of my friend, you have tasted the strange power 
of the blind man. I have a hope that when I am dead she 
may send for him. His visions are true—true even in 
dealing with the future, which is a marvel hard to com¬ 
prehend. And before I left the palace I said to her: 
‘He has the divine sight.’ Yes, she will send for him, 
and it may be that he will check the madness which has 
seized her brilliant intelligence. But she will not lose 
face by doing it in my lifetime, because I warned her 
before in vain. This, too, will hasten my death. For 
yourself, after to-morrow this house will be no refuge for 
you. It will fall with its master. And where shall you 
find safety? That thought will trouble my last mo¬ 
ments.” 

I implored him not to be concerned. I said I had 
good hope that my thorough knowledge of the two lan¬ 
guages, Manchu and Chinese, would safeguard me. I 
had been used to masquerading about the country as a 


80 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


native. He must not give it a thought. Hakka, too. I 
was well safeguarded with speech. 

But his kindness had given it many thoughts. He said 
earnestly: 

“The only way this ignorant person can suggest is 
that you should attach yourself to the blind man and 
follow his counsels. He will have influence yet with the 
Kindly Mother. I have opened the way. He knows 
many secrets and his inner sight is a tower of strength. 
I will now call him and commit you solemnly to him.” 

He was summoned, and meanwhile I asked if my noble 
host could tell me anything of this girl Sie, who had 
shown such courage in the presence of her terrible mis¬ 
tress. He knew nothing. He had never seen her before, 
but he added she was very beautiful and her dark blue 
eyes were like the plumage of the kingfisher—a strange 
thing for a noble Manchu maiden. I then asked Yang 
Lien his opinion of the blind man’s powers. 

“They are not magic in the sense that they are con¬ 
cerned with spirits and demons. It is the inner knowl¬ 
edge that is handed down from one incarnation to another 
and from life to life. It is a part of the Universal Wis¬ 
dom. When a man realizes that he is a part of the 
Whole, he sees and knows through all material obstacles, 
for they are illusion, and the man who is instructed is 
unhindered by them.” 

Is this a solution? I could not tell then, but I have 
often revolved it since, and I believe it to be the key. 

In a few minutes the blind man entered and made his 
lowly salutations. He was full of trembling anxiety to 




THE TREASURE OF HO 


81 


hear how his protector had sped at the Palace, and evi¬ 
dently all memory of his sight had passed like breath 
from a mirror. In a few brief words Yang Lien spoke 
of his own danger, and still more of the danger to the 
State and asked, if the Empress should send for the blind 
man, if he would obey, for if not he, Yang Lien, would 
find measures to have him safeguarded out of the city that 
very night. 

Without an instant’s hesitation he said he would go. 
Remembering his fate and looking on those sightless 
eyes, I marvelled at the man’s courage. Few would have 
acted as he did. For, if he displeased the Old Buddha 
by his clairvoyance—and in that supernormal state the 
truth would certainly out—the lingering death was the 
best he could hope for. 

Then, very impressively Yang Lien commended me to 
him. He had asked my permission to tell him of my 
quest, and, if we were to Work together, I knew a clear 
understanding was necessary; so I agreed, and the whole 
strange story was unfolded to the blind man. He heard 
it in dead silence, though when John Mallerdean’s name 
was mentioned I saw once more that for some unknown 
reason it started some connection in his mind. Then 
they consulted together and it was agreed that my hair 
should be trimmed Hakka fashion and certain alterations 
made in my dress and appearance that I might pass for 
the blind man’s Hakka secretary and assistant. He 
had had one until quite lately when the Boxers on their 
way from Tientsin had murdered him. His blindness 
of course made an attendant necessary. Then, for it 


82 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


was growing late, and quiet settling down over even the 
desecrated courtyard, we were about to separate, when 
Yang Lien asked a last question: 

“The Court of Astronomers has observed a conjunction 
of stars which, it is declared, augurs ill for the dynasty. 
Has your superior intelligence had any reason to concur 
with this opinion ?” 

The blind man made a solemn gesture with his right 
hand: 

“When your Excellency within a few days encounters 
the august shade of the late Emperor by the Yellow 
Springs, I beseech you to declare to him that his cruellest 
fears are fulfilled, for his widow the Empress has doomed 
his house to ruin.” 

Nothing more was said. We separated in silence and 
dismay. 

Next day Yang Lien memorialized the Empress in an 
address which should be historical as an impeachment. 
He spared her in nothing save that he blamed some of 
her ministers rather than herself for the tragic pass to 
which matters had come. He sketched for her the only 
course that might yet save the country; and, expressing 
the hope that she might follow it, the memorial ended 
thus: 

“And if this be done, smiling shall I go to my death 
and enter the realms of the departed. In a spirit of un¬ 
controllable indignation and alarm I present this me¬ 
morial with tears and beg that your Majesty may deign 
to peruse it.” 

So he signed his own death warrant, and calmly dis¬ 
patched it to the Palace. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


83 


Peking was in a frightful condition that day—many 
parts of the city a mere shambles. I was able through 
means which even now I dare not disclose, for heaven 
only knows when they may be useful again, to communi¬ 
cate with a friend in the besieged British Legation and 
convey news of Yang Lien’s memorial, warning them 
that he believed the Empress would soon pretend a change 
of heart and wish for their deliverance. But, I added 
on my own responsibility, let nothing induce them to 
trust to this appearance. I finished with the word 
“Cawnpore,” which I knew he and all would understand 
because it referred to a frightful episode in the Indian 
Mutiny of 1856, when a mistaken trust in the word of 
the Nana Sahib led to the massacre of the English men, 
women and children of Cawnpore. 

That done, by Yang Lien’s chivalrous care for our 
safety, the blind man and I left his house at noon, but 
separately, each taking his own way, he to the house of 
a kinsman in the neighbourhood of the Hatamen Street, 
I to a little-known Buddhist temple on the outskirts of 
the city. There I passed the next two days, making all 
the preparations advised by Yang Lien, who had known 
the priest and had given me a written command to him. 
With him I secreted the papers Yang Lien had given me 
for his family until I should be able to get them out of 
the city. My dress and complexion were most skilfully 
changed. 

Early next morning we had news that Yang Lien was 
sentenced to death “for favouring the foreigner and caus¬ 
ing dissension in the Palace.” Privately we had news 
that in her “divine wrath” the Empress declared that he 


84 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


should be torn asunder by chariots driven in opposite 
directions, but this was commuted to instant decapitation. 
In spite of the entreaties of the priest, I determined I 
would attend the execution, for however it wrung my 
heart I felt that one friend at least should be there, and 
moreover there might be some last word he might wish 
to send to his family. 

So I went to the fearful place, and none suspected that 
the unassuming Hakka gentleman who stood unmoved 
when the prisoner paused beside him to say farewell to 
the Manchu duke who superintended the execution, was 
an Englishman—his heart torn with pain and shame for 
the country that could endure to see one of her noblest 
die a death of ignominy. He looked in my direction 
gravely and made an almost imperceptible sign with his 
hand. No more, for he would not risk my life, but I 
knew he was glad of my presence. He said aloud: “I 
die innocent. To die is only to return home”—and the 
base duke stepped forward as if to strike him. Then 
and not till then I turned my face away. 

The rest is silence. But so may I, so may we all, meet 
the Inevitable when it faces us, with the quiet heroism 
which, having settled its affairs in this world, turns with 
a steadfast calm to the next. The memory of the just 
is blessed. 


CHAPTER IV 


I MADE my way back to the temple with thoughts I 
will not write, and passing through the streets saw 
much to justify his certainty of the ruin at hand. 
I must not sully this page with stories of the bloodshed 
and rapine that met me at every turn. Men were talking 
openly of the downfall of the legations as near at hand. 
I knew better, but was in fearful anxiety as to how long 
their resistance could last. 

Next morning an unobtrusive Hakka joined the blind 
man at his kinsman’s house. He had announced my 
coming and all was prepared. I was presented to the 
brother, a man older than himself, kindly and simple in 
his ways, and a room was appointed me. There were 
no women in the house. Like all far-seeing people, he 
had sent his women off at the approach of the Boxers, 
and where their refuge was I never knew. There was 
not a single article of value in the house. There, too, 
they had made their preparations. The very chopsticks 
we ate with were wooden, the floors were bare. I told 
the blind man all particulars of the end and watched the 
slow tears distil from his sightless eyes—a pitiful thing to 
see. 

“It now behooves us,” he said, “to carry on the tra¬ 
dition of so much worth. My own mind is made up.” 

We waited on events and that day had news that the 
Empress had sent a magnificent gift of fruit and vege- 

85 




86 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


tables to the legations with a most conciliatory and gra¬ 
cious message, and that in “the strict seclusion of the 
Palace” she had ordered large sums of money to be 
shared among the Boxers. Again I sent the word 
“Cawnpore” to the British Legation. 

My new master devoted the evening to giving me the 
necessary instructions for my attending him in the pal¬ 
ace. My name was Yuan. I was a devout Buddhist 
skilled in charms and incantations. Signals were ar¬ 
ranged between us in readiness for events to be told later. 
I also had the faculty of the second sight under certain 
conditions. I was a literary man, and took no interest 

in politics. I knew I could play this part if I kept 

within certain limits, and since the blind man realized 
these I knew I was pretty safe. I asked his own name, 
and after a minute’s hesitation he told me it was Wei. 

I cannot tell if this was true. I took the opportunity 

of asking how he knew the name of John Mallerdean, 
and he replied that the answer to that question must 
“await the appointed day.” I accepted this, for I had 
no other way. I will say here and now that the more I 
saw of him the more grateful I felt to my dead friend 
for having put me in his hands. He was an honest man, 
a true patriot, and possessed of gifts so extraordinary 
that they opened a whole new chapter of experience to 
me. 

The next morning, as we walked in the little courtyard, 
listening to the guns and, alas, to the cries that some¬ 
times pierced even their sullen roar, I saw an imperial 
official approaching attended by a dozen Manchu guards, 
and hastily warned my master. Not a flicker of ex- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


87 


pression passed over his blind face. We paced stolidly 
up and down speaking of indifferent matters until they 
entered the gateway with the screen of stone skewed to 
ward off the coming of evil spirits who must always 
enter in a straight line. 

Then I started, as if I had only just seen them, and 
bowed with the deepest respect, warning my master aloud 
at the same time of the honour at hand. He also bowed 
in reverent silence. 

The newcomer wore a corpulent presence and a pluto¬ 
cratic expression. I knew him well by sight—one of 
the basest of the rats and foxes who had made his 
millions by pandering to the evil doings of the imperial 
men and women of the dying dynasty. The Manchus 
had ousted the Mings when moral decay weakened them, 
and now their own turn was at hand. How could it be 
otherwise when evil minions like the one before me had 
a determining voice in their councils? 

In a high nasal voice he began. 

“The words of the Empress. The Kindly Mother com¬ 
mands that the Blind Man of Hupei, honoured by all the 
world for his divine gifts, should forthwith attend her 
in the Palace of the Jewelled Phoenixes. Rooms of hon¬ 
our shall be set apart for him. The choicest—” 

To my amazement, to my consternation, the blind man 
instantly towered into passion. 

“What!” he cried. “I reverence the August Empress 
—but at a distance. She has deprived me of my eyes. 
She has condemned me to eternal darkness. Can even 
the Divine Empress suppose that a man so treated will 
exercise his art on her behalf? Does her Majesty be- 




88 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


lieve that the attendant spirits will be at the service of 
one who could use their instrument so vilely? No—I 
can die, but cannot yield. Convey to the Empress the 
reverent salutation of the lowest of her slaves, and say 
that the blind man cannot come.” 

Blank amazement on the official faces to match my 
own. What? Refuse? The Empress? 

A pause. The blind man turned a resolute back and 
made toward the house. I followed his example, quak¬ 
ing, I own. The official caught me by the sleeve. 

“Who are you?” 

“The attendant Yuan.” 

“Then persuade this madman to hear reason. If I 
return without him the Kindly Mother will skin me alive. 
And what she will do to him and to you passes thought. 
He must come. He shall come if we drag him through 
the streets.” 

Genuine fear was in the man’s eyes. Suddenly I per¬ 
ceived the strength of the blind man’s position and his 
reasons for acting thus. I assumed the majesty of the 
wizard, in the Chinese of a man who is used to speak 
Hakka. 

“You may drag him through the streets, but you can¬ 
not drag the spirits. Her Majesty may slay him; but 
what is death to such a one, and the spirits she cannot 
slay? Behold—see there!” I pointed to the dolphin 
finials of the Temple of Lao-tze at hand. There was 
nothing, of course, but no matter. It is well known in 
China that spirits perch on these finials. They are there 
for that purpose. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


89 


“The greatest prince in the Empire would not dare 
to act as you and your master are doing now!” he said, 
with a white glare at me. 

“Probably not,” said I. “They have reasons for fear, 
we have not.” 

Bluff, unmitigated bluff, but it answered. 

He moderated his tone. 

“If your master understood what rich rewards—” 

“That would be ineffectual. We waste your inesti¬ 
mable time. Permit us to return to our studies.” 

I stared at him with a face expressionless as a muffin. 
The situation was really humorous. Of course I knew 
that China is ruled by superstition, but I had not had 
the wit to size up the situation so swiftly as my master. 
No matter, I understood it thoroughly now. 

“It seems, then, that we must return to her Majesty. 
Her divine wrath will blaze like the flame consuming the 
stubble,” said the official, shifting uncomfortably from 
one foot to the other. I vouchsafed no answer, but pur¬ 
sued my stately way to the house. Again he intercepted 
me and grasped my sleeve. 

“If with prostrations and abasements we besought the 
divine sage—” 

I shook myself free and proceeded. The soldiers had 
stood stolidly by and now right-about-faced for retreat. 
The official stood for five minutes or more, evidently 
hoping for mercy. At last the whole party disappeared. 

“They are gone,” said the blind man in a tone of satis¬ 
faction when I rejoined him and the outer gate shut. 

“They are gone, oh, wise and benevolent!” said I. 




90 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“But pardon my ignorance and reveal whether the next 
arrival may not be an order for our execution. It 
appears very possible to me.” 

“Young man, no!” he replied, using the Chinese term 
employed by a teacher to his disciple. “Do I not know 
the Manchu woman? Had I gone easily, she would have 
neither feared nor trusted me, nor could I have made my 
terms for entering her service. It would have been im¬ 
possible, for instance, to take an attendant of my own 
with me. But she who fears neither man nor God, fears 
every devil, every ill omen. She believes devoutly in the 
elixir of immortality, in the elixir of youth. She resem¬ 
bles that Hwang-ti emperor who sent his ship to discover 
those golden isles where dwell beneficent spirits whose 
joy it is to give the draught of immortality to all who 
reach their happy shores. When we stand in her pres¬ 
ence hear how I will speak with her. But tell me this— 
was all the talk with that villain in Chinese?” 

“My master, yes,” said I, following his example and 
employing the honorific used by the disciple. “What 
else should it be? Rough Chinese.” 

He leaned forward, impressive and stern. 

“Then guard it as a secret more precious than pearls 
that you can speak Manchu. We may learn weighty 
secrets thus. You read and write it also?” 

“Not so well as Chinese, but sufficient.” 

“That is well indeed, and also a secret. I shall, of 
course announce in the Palace that you are a Hakka man, 
and your knowledge of Chinese limited. That will ac¬ 
count for anything suspicious which may be noticed in 
your speech or appearance.” 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


91 


I own that touched me up. I thought my Chinese 
perfect and what with the swarthy yellow complexion his 
instructions had produced, a handsome queue and the 
right dress, I ’felt sure that even in Kiang-si I might 
pass muster for a Hakka man of some standing, and how 
much more in Peking. I took some pride in my skill 
with three or four of the Chinese dialects, and said as 
much. He replied instantly. 

“Your skill in our dialects is amazing to the mind. 
But the spy system in the Palace is beyond your imagin¬ 
ing. When I announce you as a Hakka, they will prob¬ 
ably send for a Kiang-si man to verify your appearance. 
Speak Chinese then only for the needs of life with them, 
and with me speak Hakka. And let your knowledge of 
Manchu be a secret of the dead.” 

I instantly agreed. Then, after reflection, he went on: 

“Now—for that rat will soon return—ask me any 
question you will, for in the Palace none must be asked. 
Eyes and ears are all about men when most they think 
themselves secret.” 

I reflected a moment. 

“My master, what is your purpose in entering the 
Palace? Mine, you know. Am I worthy to be told 
yours?” 

“Mine is to aid my country, and to that end to do my 
part toward undermining the dynasty. Corrupt and 
vile and faithless, there is not a Manchu prince or prin¬ 
cess left with whom an honest man can treat. That they 
ever conquered and ousted the Mings was ruin for my 
country. That villain who came but now, low as he is 
in birth and station, rolls in wealth gained through blood- 



92 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


shed and treachery and worse. But he sways the Old 
Buddha. You will see another, young and fierce, a tiger 
cub, who rules the Empress Consort. When that woman 
comes to power, as she must when the Old Buddha ‘as¬ 
cends the chariot drawn by fairies,’ the dynasty is done 
—or will be if men like myself lend it their aid. The 
Emperor is a pitiable weakling. All men who love their 
country must combine against these degenerates. When 
last I was in the Palace I was young. I saw these things 
but accepted them as inevitable. Now, inspired by the 
patriotism of my noble patron Yang Lien, I return—a 
scourge, a flame of destruction! I will abase the woman 
in the dust before me—I who know her crimes! ” 

His voice was low and fierce, and there was a wildness 
in it and in his expression that for a moment gave me an 
uncomfortable doubt of his sanity. To enter those dark 
and dreadful mazes with a lunatic! That would be a 
tempting of Providence far beyond my intentions. 

I may say he heard my thought, so quick were his per¬ 
ceptions. He turned his white intelligent face on me 
with perfect quiet. 

“Young man, my anger will never lead me a step aside 
from my purpose. Once in the years gone by it did, 
and I paid for it with my sight. You are safe with me. 
Am I safe with you? Can you see cruelties and 
shames in silence—nay with outward indifference?” 

“I can. I will,” I said. “But one question more: 
Have you a personal vengeance in view, my master?” 

“None,” he said firmly. “What is my sight compared 
with my hope? I rejoice that I have lost it, for it gives 
me the powers I need. Now be silent. It will not be 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


93 


long before they return and I wish to collect my thoughts. 
Follow my lead in all I say and do—when we are where 
we would be.” 

He then serenely dismissed the subject, and turned his 
thoughts elsewhere. 

He took out his rosary and softly repeated a Buddhist 
prayer, long and monotonous, then with the amazing 
memory of the Oriental, he began to recite in Chinese the 
Lotus Sutra (scripture). I listened with pleasure to its 
ancient beauty. The guns were roaring about the lega¬ 
tions. They were firing also at the French cathedral 
and the never-ceasing shrieks and cries tore the air, but 
these ancient and holy words seemed to make a little 
place of peace about us: 

“The Gate of Infinite Law 
Makes clear all things. 

It gives a haven of calm joy 
Of salvation, protection. 

And those who know— 

They pass from death to life. 

You who are weary 
May be made glad—” 

So it went on, a wonder of beauty. As the flower of its 
name grows from black mud, so this celestial truth pro¬ 
tested eternal righteousness in the very gates of hell. 
From that moment I knew he was a devout Buddhist 
and what he said I believed. 

The time had not seemed long when there was a noise 
of men outside the gates, and the double wings were 
thrown open and into the little courtyard was borne a 




94 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


kind of sedan chair with yellow curtains, and from this, 
with the help of two servants stepped a man gross and 
corpulent with a court necklace of tasseled jade and am¬ 
ber. I deciphered the dragons with the swastika border 
in the great circles of embroidery upon his breast and 
reported an imperial prince, but I was not certain which. 

“Describe him,” said my master briefly. I did so. 

“It is Prince Tsai, the patron of the Boxers,” he said. 
“Lead me out to meet him.” 

For a moment my heart beat quick as I wondered if 
my disguise were good enough to deceive the experience 
of a Manchu prince. I thought it was. The change of 
complexion to a swarthy yellow, the Chinese trimmed 
hair, the touch of paint in the angle of the eye, were 
all well done. I had hardly known myself in the glass. 
And on my knowledge of manners and customs I thought 
I could rely. Again, my master perceived my thought. 

“Talk little. Follow my guidance and you are safe,” 
he said. “Now lead me out.” 

I took his hand with a reverent air and we made for 
the courtyard where the prince stood with his attendants 
about him. We both made the kowtow, an attention 
which he received with the utmost graciousness. It was 
evidently not to be our execution—as yet. 

“Illuminated sage!” he began. “The attendant An 
Ling has returned to the palace with the tidings that you 
refused to obey her sacred Majesty’s command. Doubt¬ 
less the ignorance of a dull and illiterate personage mis¬ 
represented the classical correctness of your attitude. 
Consequently, I come from her Majesty that there may 


THE TREASURE OF HO 95 

be no misapprehension which might cause regrettable 
anger in the benevolent imperial mind.” 

There was just the sub-acid hint of a threat in this 
honey. I stood with my eyes fixed humbly on the 
ground. My master answered gravely. 

“Your highness, in former years, long gone by, I served 
her Divine Majesty, humbly, but with fidelity. My re¬ 
ward was this” (he touched his eyes) “and, not being a 
military person and entirely unpossessed of courage, I 
fear to enter her imperial presence lest again I have the 
misfortune to displease her. I live in poverty congenial 
to my studies with this my disciple and ask but peace 
and retirement.” 

“Man of wisdom and discretion, these are sentiments 
that all must honour. But her Majesty has heard mar¬ 
vels of your wisdom, and in anxiety even to the shedding 
of tears, the Benign Mother commands your coming. 
Quiet shall be secured you—rooms and a private garden 
for meditation, attendants to serve you—” 

He paused, and my master calmly rejoined: 

“That alone would make my position impossible. I 
go nowhere without my attendant.” 

“Chinese, as you know, are not permitted as attend¬ 
ants in the Palace. Unless indeed under the most strin¬ 
gent circumstances.” 

My master spoke firmly. 

“Your Highness will condescend to command your at¬ 
tendants to withdraw out of hearing.” 

A signal was made, and they all herded off, staring at 
us curiously. Then he went on. 



96 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“The attendance I need is of a different order, and 
none must behold my secrets who cannot share them. 
This my disciple is a Hakka man, poor in this world’s 
wealth, but gifted in supernatural matters. His own 
tongue and a slender knowledge of the colloquial of the 
Northern capital, sufficient for the actual needs of life, are 
his all. How, then, could he parley with the polished and 
literary attendants of the Palace or be admitted to the 
presence of the Holy and Auspicious Mother? Yet with¬ 
out his aid, this humble blind person is helpless both in 
his private life and his science. Your Highness will 
therefore condescendingly perceive the impossibility of 
my obeying you.” 

The prince hesitated for a moment, but persevered. 
Need I relate the discussion that followed, each of the 
two outdoing the other in wordy civilities and apparent 
determination? At last Prince Tsai triumphed. Many 
taels of silver were conditioned for. The Empress, who 
believed in no man’s virtue, would have suspected some 
deep-laid plot if money had not been an outstanding 
feature of the bargaining. Absolute immunity for the 
pair of us was guaranteed even if his predictions or coun¬ 
sel should be unlucky (“For who,” said my master de¬ 
voutly, “can control the great evil spirits?”). He was to 
be permitted my attendance, provided I would engage to 
remain entirely in the part of the Palace assigned to us 
and never to leave it without permission. And finally, 
we were to be honourably dismissed when my master 
should feel he could aid her imperial Majesty no further. 

“But so great is my desire for repose and study that 
even now would this worm disobey the Benevolent 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


97 


Mother’s commands and, crawling into his hole be lost, 
were it not that I have already had visions which may be 
of moment.” 

Prince Tsai instantly turned and beckoned his attend¬ 
ants. Two more sedan chairs (though naturally with' 
out the yellow curtains of royalty) were brought for¬ 
ward, and, only giving us a few moments to collect our 
actual necessaries, we were soon swinging along at a good 
pace to the Forbidden City. 

What were my feelings. Confusion worse confounded. 
I wanted time, time to lay down a fuller code of signals, 
clear instructions—many things without which I knew I 
should shipwreck. And here were we, swinging along to 
the Wei-Men gate of the Forbidden City, and I feeling 
as though every Chinese or Hakka word and notion in 
my head had taken wing for ever. 

We drew up after what seemed a long time at a side 
entrance, and I got nimbly out to give my hand with 
every sign of obedience to my master. Only filial rever¬ 
ence in China can exceed that due to a teacher, and if I 
had been attending the Emperor I could scarcely have 
been more obsequious. He paused a moment at the en¬ 
trance and said aloud in Prince Tsai’s hearing: 

“May my entrance at these doors be propitious to the 
great pure dynasty. Is it not a saying of the divine sage, 
Confucius, ‘Study to remove resentments and angry feel¬ 
ings’? I come therefore with a free heart.” 

The prince immediately went off to announce to the 
Empress that the fish was caught, and we were conducted 
to our rooms by a supple-tongued and handed attendant 
to whom I took a warm and instant dislike—a fawning 


98 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


fox-faced hypocrite if ever I saw one. He ushered us 
with a flourish into two quiet little rooms looking out on a 
lovely little garden, and beyond that a massive and 
heavily decorated pavilion, supported on pillars of 
richly carved wood, the noble roof sweeping up into 
points at the corners. 

“Your noble and illustrious sightlessness renders the 
view immaterial to your wisdom, illuminated one,” said 
he; “but the air is healthful and peaceful. Your disciple 
will inform me of your venerated needs. May I have 
the felicity of knowing his honourable name?” 

This had been foreseen, and I was announced as Yuan 
Lai, a Hakka gentleman. I set to work at once to place 
our few possessions in order, and the attendant left us 
and returned speedily with tea and little sweet cakes. I 
purposely made my Chinese clumsy and slow. Even 
when we were alone, not a word did the blind man utter 
that all the world might not have heard. He deplored 
in moving Hakka (which he did not speak as well as I) 
being thus dragged from our studies, but said that in the 
anxious position in which the Empress’s divine intelli¬ 
gence was now placed no loyal subject but must place all 
his powers at her disposal. We walked slowly awhile 
in the garden while waiting a summons from her Majesty, 
for it was announced that she would see us at the Hour 
of the Monkey, i. e., between 3 and 5 p. m. Later the 
fox-faced attendant brought word that she was engaged 
on urgent business with Duke Lan and the interview 
would be in the Hour of the Dog—that is, between 7 and 
9 P. M. 


CHAPTER V 


T HE Blind Man of Hupei was perfectly calm and 
unruffled. When we returned from the garden, 
he sat down and again recited softly portions of 
the Lotus Scripture: 

“Do any desire to cast away their weariness, 

To abide with me? 

Bid them harken to this Scripture. 

Those who have not heard this Word 
Are far from divine Wisdom. 

But my dwelling-place 
Is filled with mercy. 

Beautiful, but who could listen in the shadow of the 
terrible Empress? I confess my nerves were on tenter¬ 
hooks with the waiting and suspense. At last the sum¬ 
mons came, and the blind man rose and adjusted his 
robe, and I gathered up a lacquer box which he had given 
to my care, and taking his hand in mine we followed 
Fox-face. 

“Young man, my disciple!” said the blind man in low 
clear tones, “be reverent in the presence of the mighty. 
Do as I do, in all things conduct yourself by my exam¬ 
ple. Make the ninefold abasement, and be grateful in 
heart to this discreet person who thus conducts us to the 
Heavenly Presence.” 

I uttered a humble assent, clasping my hands and bow- 
99 



100 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


ing till they touched the ground and thus, through many 
and bewildering ways we were led to our goal. At the 
door, the blind man hurriedly warned me that I must 
not raise my eyes to the Motherly Countenance. The 
next moment, a curtain was raised and let fall, and we 
stood before her. 

Instantly we made the ninefold kowtow, and after that 
advanced on our knees. And if there is a more difficult, 
absurd and impossible way of progressing in this world I 
should be glad to hear of it. I was obliged to guide the 
blind man by holding his sleeve, else heaven knows to 
what corner of the vast Hall of Purple Light he might 
not have wandered. All fours would have been a million 
times easier and I could but lament that abasement to 
the knee only was considered sufficiently degrading. 
However, shuffling along as best we could, eventually we 
got within speaking range, and a remarkably sweet and 
pleasant voice addressed our then prostrate forms in 
Chinese and bade us rise to our knees again. 

Of course I saw her Majesty. A man can always see 
what he wishes even with his eyes fixed on a given point. 
As a matter of fact, I saw her very well. 

On a stately chair, with a kind of splendid panelling 
at the back of it, but not shadowing the head, sat a 
comely, matronly looking woman whose age I should 
have guessed at forty or thereabouts if I had not known 
her to be much older. The wicked had certainly flour¬ 
ished like a green bay tree in this case, for no placid 
wife and mother busied with little household kindnesses 
could show a more unlined and serene brow than this 
terrifying person, the stories of whose misdeeds ran from 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


101 


end to end of China. She was dressed in some magnifi¬ 
cent stuff illuminated, as it were, with all the fabulous 
creatures of Chinese mythology, and about her neck were 
chains of pearls linked and relinked and knotted, so that 
they formed a gorgeous decoration falling about her 
shoulders and bosom and nearly to the waist. The illu¬ 
sion of placid maternity was increased by the smooth 
banding of her black hair on the ears and forehead and 
a kind of Russian-looking headdress, ovals of extreme 
magnificence arranged like a crown with long em¬ 
broidered silk lappets falling over her shoulders in front. 
It is an amazing thing, but the word that occurred to me 
was Respectable looking.” Yes, the terrible Old Bud¬ 
dha, the Empress of China, suggested that idea. Ex¬ 
actly as her Majesty Queen Victoria did in bygone days. 
Only the Oriental had not her alarming dignity. I 
thought the face had an almost stupid benevolence, dull 
and uninspiring, between the matronly lappets. 

At one side of her chair stood the Empress Consort— 
her own niece whom she had forced upon the unhappy 
Emperor much against his will; a plain young woman of 
most unprepossessing expression, with a long face and 
rabbit mouth, topped by narrow, alert, suspicious little 
eyes. Yet I knew I was face to face with power present 
and future in this lady, who was said to have inherited her 
aunt’s abilities and tendencies in perfection. On the 
other side of the chair stood the Dowager Empress’s 
favourite attendant, Li Lien-ying, a gross, corpulent man 
in an astonishing filigree headdress like a woman, and 
behind it a young lady standing stiffly like a charming 
doll, in a long embroidered coat. I glimpsed a beautiful 


102 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


face. I could see no more for the moment—I dared not. 
Li Lien-ying’s eyes, mere slits in his coarse face, were 
nevertheless very alert peepholes, and every vibration 
of the air in the place cried: “Caution.” 

But the Empress was speaking: 

“Welcome to a faithful servant. When the punish¬ 
ment is humbly accepted the sin is forgotten and the sun 
of imperial favour shines again. Illuminated blind one, 
I have need of your wisdom. Yang Lien, the traitor 
now dead, informed me that with the years your celestial 
wisdom had grown and that neither walls nor leagues are 
a bar to your inward vision. Is that wisdom at the 
service of your Empress?” 

Nobody seemed to speak or think of the Emperor, his 
wife least of all. All power was centred in the woman 
in the chair. The blind man kowtowed again and I fol¬ 
lowed suit. 

“Then here, now, and in this most inauspicious hour, 
see for me. Declare the truth. Are the legations about 
to fall and the cursed followers to die the death, or will 
they live to work my ruin? Speak.” 

Never raising his eyes, the blind man made slow reply. 

“Will the divine wisdom of the Heavenly Empress 
accept the truth? Will she hear with patience what is 
unpleasing if it be true? This low and obscure person 
cannot tell what the great wise spirits will utter. Is his 
head safe if they prophesy evil tidings?” 

She leaped to her feet, and I was so startled that for a 
second I glanced up at the risk of my life. Never again 
did I believe in the Motherly Benevolence myth. A face, 
furious, imperious—the lips drawn back from the teeth 



THE TREASURE OF HO 103 

—a raging face. From that moment on I never thought 
her “respectable.” 

“Fool! What do I want but the truth? Why did I 
send for you? Do not the rats and foxes all about me 
say smooth things until I loathe them, and every day 
our wheel axles are deeper in the mud of lies and folly. 
The truth!—if I have to tear it from your liver!” 

I wondered how the blind man would meet this out¬ 
burst. With fearless dignity— 

“Sacred Majesty, it is well. From your supernatural 
intelligence what else could be looked for? To all great 
souls truth is venerable. What say the wise? Truth 
is the hat-pearl of the Superior man. Have I your august 
permission to see?” 

She was smiling, benevolent, urbane, before he had 
finished speaking. At his command I opened the lac¬ 
quer box, and drew out a pastille and set it in a little 
metal stand (all this was done clumsily enough for want 
of a training in Court crouching. No matter. It suited 
the part of the Hakka man). My master kowtowed 
again. 

“At this point, Heavenly Empress, I cannot kneel. It 
is necessary that I recline. May it be pardoned in the 
presence of Majesty?” 

“Lie—sit, anything you will! Only be quick. Those 
guns should tell you the need of haste.” 

“The Great Wise Spirits cannot be hastened,” he re¬ 
plied gravely. “And haste discomposes me so that I 
may be an unfitting vehicle.” 

I could hear her impatient sigh, the only sound that 
broke the dead silence as the blind man stretched himself 







104 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


before the step on which her chair was raised, and closed 
his sightless eyes. Still on my knees I drew near and 
set the little vessel containing the pastille by his side. 
The thin blue smoke rose from it about his face. He 
spoke, in a voice already strange and dim, fading, as it 
were, into dream. 

“Draw back. Let none inhale this smoke but the 
man who with blinded eyes shall see.” 

I shuffled back. Dead silence. The women and Li 
Lien-ying, trained in standing, were rigid as statues. 
There was not the sound of a breath. My knees ached 
confoundedly, but the Empress cared nothing but for the 
white mask before her. And so we remained still, 
attentive. 

Suddenly the lips moved. He spoke Manchu. 

“The Spirits of the cold cloud, the Spirits of the black 
typhoon, the Spirits of war, of blood, of terror, are un¬ 
loosed. Give me sight, sight, sight! 0 terrible Spirits! 
Sight!” 

The voice died in a moan. Then as suddenly it broke 
out again, hoarse, strangled, horrible—a voice I did not 
know: 

“Sight! I see!” 

The Empress leaned forward. Etiquette was dead. 
All stared at the man’s working face, and I looked at her 
as freely as at him and it mattered to no one. 

“Sight. I see a room, and it is in the fashion of the 
foreign devils. A man sits at a table. He writes. Men 
come in and out with messages. They speak. Can I 
hear for the guns? O be silent, guns, guns! that I 
may hear. The Spirits lay their hands across the hot 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


105 


muzzles of the guns. I hear. ‘ Another breach in the 
walls ?’ ‘Yes, another. There are many. This cannot 
last.’ 

“ ‘And the food?’ 

“ ‘Little left. The Empress has sent fruits to-day. 
They are a part of her treachery. Beware lest they be 
poisoned. That woman is capable of any crime.’ ” 

The Empress’s face could not grow more intent, but a 
kind of white fury flickered over it and passed as she 
listened to this conversation. What is extraordinary was 
that it was spoken in two entirely different voices— 
voices not Chinese, though the words were Manchu, but 
European. Anyone who has lived in China will know 
the difference I try to suggest. 

“ ‘No, she will not poison us. The foolish old woman 
is trying to throw dust in our eyes. She wants to murder 
us all if she succeeds, and, if she fails, to say to the 
Powers that she was our friend all through and helpless 
in the hands of the Boxers. Her diplomacy is childish.’ 

“ ‘But can we hold out? Our troops are yet far from 
Tientsin?’ 

“ ‘We can hold out. We shall hold out while two 
stones stand together of this legation walls.’ 

“ ‘And if they come and find us dead?’ 

“ ‘Then they will take Peking and the Empress will 
pay dear for her crimes.’ 

“ ‘How?’ 

“ ‘By deposition. Possibly death. We shall set the 
Emperor on his throne again. He understands better 
than the old woman the power of the Powers. He can 
learn. She cannot.’ ” 


106 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


The Empress uttered a stifled sound. The Empress 
Consort moved swiftly toward her. In the alarm of the 
moment I looked up and my eyes met those of the girl 
behind the chair. They were distended with terror— 
but blue, blue as living sapphires. 

I looked down again, but from that moment my mind 
was twofold. 

“ ‘We must accept her courtesy as if we believed in it. 
She must not leave Peking. If she is gone when the 
troops come, we have lost even if we save our lives. She 
is throwing dust in our eyes. Throw dust in hers,—any¬ 
thing, anything to keep that woman here when our 
troops come. China is lost to us if she escapes.’ ” 

She could control herself no longer. I had always 
heard that she was subject to awful fits of fury. I saw 
one now. She screamed aloud, she beat her breast with 
her two hands. 

“I have heard enough, enough. Wake him—fool!” 
She turned on me like a raging lioness. “Can you not 
wake him? I will hear no more. How could I guess 
this treachery of the foreign devils? I will see them 
sliced to death in the streets.” 

But why record the ravings of a woman, mad for the 
moment? I shuffled nearer to my master as she raged 
on. The pastille was dying down into ash, and though 
his lips moved, still no sound could be heard. Li Lien- 
ying was looking at her expectant of an order. Heaven 
knows I thought it would come and would be for our 
instant death. The Empress Consort addressed her in 
Manchu. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


107 


“Does the slave who attends him know Manchu, Old 
Buddha?’’ 

“Not a word. We made certain of that. A smatter¬ 
ing of Chinese. His own tongue, Hakka.” 

“Fortunate for him!” said the sinister young woman 
“There are things a man may not hear and live.” 

“True. But no fear. Question him, Li Lien-ying. 
Quick, before his master recovers.” 

Quick as a flash, Li put a question to me in Manchu. 

“Is the sage’s life in danger in these trances, disciple 
of the learned?” 

I did not look up. I shook my head stupidly. 

“No understand,” I said in Chinese—then eagerly: 

“Rice wine to wet his lips,” purposely making it seem 
that fear had made me forgetful of the illustrious 
lookers-on. The attendant left the hall to fetch it, and 
the Empress Consort said passionately: 

“Is it fitting that a man should live who knows these 
secrets?” 

“It is fitting that I should know what he can tell me, 
my foolish niece,” said the Empress. “How else can I 
stand in the legation and hear their secrets? After¬ 
ward—who knows! Let us see what he remembers 
when he wakes.” 

I listened to these two pitiless women and my heart 
was like iron inside me. What is fate that it puts power 
and the lives of men and women in such hands? Inscru¬ 
table, amazing. But for fate this woman might have 
been a household shrew, scolding at her neighbours. Now 
she was an empress, playing fast and loose with the 


108 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


destinies of millions, with the lives of my own country¬ 
men and many another for the pawns in her game, in¬ 
fluenced by the atrocious Li Lien-ying and others as 
worthless. The irony of the gods—their pitiless jesting! 

But Li Lien-ying returned with the wine and I wetted 
my master’s lips with it—no more, for I knew he was 
abstemious as a hermit. He lay like one insensible now 
—a ghastly pallor. The Empress looked down upon him 
with eager interest. 

“It is perhaps best to send for the Court physician. 
His life is valuable,” she said, but even as she spoke, 
there was a faint fluttering in the nerves about the eyes— 
like the wings of a butterfly. A minute or two passed 
while the Empress Consort whispered with her, and I sup¬ 
ported his head. Suddenly the Empress turned to the 
girl behind the chair. 

“Sie, you have the perfumes that the Russian em¬ 
peror sent us last year. Bring some.” She slid off with 
the graceful, smooth motion of a flying swallow, scarcely 
seeming to move her feet, but going swiftly, and returned 
with a costly little European scent bottle, gold stoppers 
set with rubies, and held it out. 

“Open it. Apply it to his nostrils. Kneel down. Are 
you proud? Remember whence I raised you,” said the 
Empress impatiently; and the girl, blushing scarlet, came 
and knelt at my master’s other side, and with a dainty 
hand unscrewed the stopper and held it to his nostrils. 
It was strong lavender water, and the unexpected cottage 
smell was so strange in that strange place that it almost 
went to my head. But what— On the little hand that 
held it was a jade ring—a ring of most precious jewel 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


109 


jade, and veining it a rose-coloured streak. I caught my 
breath. My back was to the Empress as I supported my 
master, and I could and did look as I would. For now I 
knew. She was an elfin beauty, small, exquisitely 
shaped, full of spirit, her eyes all fire and dew. Manchu, 
yes! But exotic, for the dominant European blood fired 
the passive Oriental and proclaimed itself in the firmly 
closed crimson lips, the delicate projection of the little 
chin, the straight small nose. The eyes were lovely, 
veiled in long Oriental lashes—never are such seen in the 
West. The hair— But my chance was over. I dared 
look no more, the blind man was moving more 
consciously. 

In a few minutes he struggled into a sitting posture, 
and the girl flew back to her position behind the chair, 
dropping the bottle. I picked it up, and as she came 
forward again to receive it our eyes met in a flash. 

Did anything else pass between them? I thought it 
did. 

The blind man sat erect now, the sweat beaded on his 
forehead, and passed his hand feebly over his dead eyes; 
then feebly whispered: “Yuan!” 

“Here, my honoured master,” I said, still supporting 
him. 

“Where am I? But now I was in a strange place. 
Have I returned?” 

“You have returned, Excellent Wisdom.” 

“Have I spoken? What have I said?” 

I was beginning to answer, but here the Empress took 
a hand in the game. 

“It is the Auspicious Mother who speaks, wise Blind 




110 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


One. Yes, you* have spoken but words difficult to de¬ 
cipher. Much more is needed. Have you no memory of 
your sight?” 

“None, none. Has it served your Majesty?” 

He had got on his knees now, feebly, swaying. I still 
supported him, kneeling myself. 

“We hope for much more from your wisdom. Still, 
all things must have a beginning. Take this as a reward. 
Much greater shall follow faithful service.” 

She signed to Sie, who again came forward and placed 
a small casket in my hand. Again the Empress ques¬ 
tioned : 

“You recall nothing?” 

“Alas, Maternal Benevolence, I cannot, for when the 
sight went memory went with it. Where was I? Know¬ 
ing that, memory might return.” 

“In the besieged legation,” the Empress answered with 
extreme caution. Then added cunningly: “Ask your 
man. He perhaps could understand more.” 

But, weak as he was, the blind man saw her drift. 
He questioned me, but in Hakka, which none of them 
understood. I answered respectfully. No, not a word 
could I tell. He had spoken in some unknown tongue. 

He repeated my reply, and continued: 

“Dares a slave of the humblest ask the Sublime Em¬ 
press in what tongue this ignorant person spoke?” 

“Manchu,” she answered briefly. “And now, wise 
blind man, depart until we summon you, and use your 
leisure in working out my horoscope once more, for well 
I remember your skill in that great art. It was un¬ 
equalled and the fools who have since worked it were 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


111 


unworthy to present your shoe for wearing. Sie, offer 
the last horoscope drawn to the attendant.” 

Again she came forward, with a paper in her hand. 
Our eyes met again. I contrived that they should. 
Adroitly, as I thought, I had shifted the collar of my 
robelike coat, where just out of sight lay the jade dragon 
which I always wore. Now it was visible. Would it 
catch her eye; would any vibration strike from it that 
might make a line of communication? 

She made no sign whatever, but unluckily sharper 
eyes than hers had caught the green gleam at my 
throat. Li Lien-ying. He made a quick sign to the 
Empress. 

“What is that?” she called imperiously in Chinese. 
“The imperial dragon in precious jade! Take it from 
him, Li Lien-ying, and show it to me. Does he under¬ 
stand my words, blind man?” 

“Undoubtedly, your Majesty, but his speaking is not 
courtly. Detach the ornament, my disciple. Your sov¬ 
ereign would see it.” 

Quaking very literally, I unknotted the slender cord 
passed through the ring. It was not that I feared the 
Empress at the moment, but I feared above all things 
losing my clue. I feared that the sight of this unusual 
and beautiful jewel might bring undesirable knowledge 
to others—those whose interference I least desired. 

Li Lien-ying took the dragon and rubbed it clean from 
the least defilement of my person on the silk of his robe, 
and then presented it without ceremony to the Empress. 
It was well known he could take liberties with the Old 
Buddha on which no one else dare venture. 




112 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


She looked at it steadily as it lay in her hand, for a 
moment in dead silence. The Empress Consort leaned 
over her with intense curiosity. Li Lien-ying bent his 
gross body over the back of her chair. My brain was 
working furiously, concocting an answer for the question 
I knew would come. Fool—fool that I had been! I 
dared a glance at Sie. She was rigid, her eyes fixed on 
the ground. 

At last the Empress spoke. 

“This is a most wonderful ornament. It is the five- 
clawed imperial dragon, given only by imperial favour, 
for on the back appear the characters “Honor” and 
“Longevity,” and the mark of his venerated Majesty, the 
Emperor Ch’ien Lung. And its beauty is enhanced by 
the rose-red streak running through the wings. There 
is not its like in the Middle Kingdom. How should an 
obscure person, forced for his living to be the attendant 
of a blind man, carry an imperial jewel?” 

I gave myself up for lost. 

“Question him, Old Buddha,” said Li Lien-ying. She 
turned her eyes like daggers on me. 

“How did you get it? Where?” 

The blind man was kneeling before her still, I also on 
my knees. 

I answered without a pause, but slowly and in Chinese 
without any of the graces which should be presented at 
the throne. 

“Your slave was walking by night two years since in 
the Woodpecker Lane in a village in the prefecture of 
Ka-ying-chow, and his ignoble foot struck this thing. 
Since then, for none claimed it, this ignorant person has 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


113 


kept it, thinking that in a day of need it might sell for 
twenty taels of silver and so preserve his unworthy life. 
If he has done wrong he entreats mercy.” 

“That story is false!” she said angrily. “Imperial 
jewel jade does not lie about the lanes of miserable vil¬ 
lages.” 

The blind man ventured a word, abasing his head 
against the ground: 

“Motherly Benevolence, this story was told me by the 
disciple when first he began to serve me.” 

She was about to speak, then checked herself and said 
no more. Having received our orders to depart, we both 
kowtowed and on our knees retreated backward along the 
hall, presenting an appearance unspeakably absurd, if I 
could have given it a thought, but so alarmed was I at 
the moment, so furious with myself for having lost my 
most important clue, that if we had been walking on our 
heads I doubt whether I should have realized it. Of 
course she kept the dragon. It was the more maddening, 
because when we got back to our rooms I dared not utter 
a word to the blind man on the subject, yet it was burn¬ 
ing like fire between my lips. 

He had come gallantly to the rescue, but I would have 
given half I am worth in the world to learn his opinion 
of what had taken place. Not only so, but I craved to 
know if his vision was true or false. To be surrounded 
by mysteries, to be unable to speak to one’s only friend 
—I was half frantic with eagerness, yet dared say 
nothing. 

When we were alone I opened the little casket Sie had 
put in my hand and it contained, as I expected, my 


114 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


master’s fee—a single pearl, not large, but of a perfect 
shape and water. There is no royal family in the world 
which owns such pearls as that of China. I described it 
to him, but he scarcely listened: 

“Her sacred Majesty is bountiful. Put it away, my 
disciple; these things are the toys of children!” he said, 
and, sitting by the window, composed himself to medita¬ 
tion. I envied him that power of perfect abstraction 
which is known to all the Orient, but of which the head¬ 
long West knows nothing. It is to the mind what sleep 
is to the body. 

Dinner was served by Fox-face and a young servant 
who looked simple and good-natured, the only person I 
had seen in the palace of whom I could have said that. 
But how could better be expected in that vast hive of 
shameful secrets, plottings and cruelties? 

It was an excellent dinner. I remember that among 
other good things we had a favourite dish of the Old Bud¬ 
dha’s, “tangwo kuo,” or “fruits lying in gravy,” i.e., 
eggs poached in chicken gravy. We had also clotted 
cream flavoured with apricot, and if the courses were a 
little tangled according to European notions, that did not 
trouble me. But I must own that in that forbidding 
place with a hum of unseen and vicious life going on 
mysteriously about one, I was inclined to wonder whether 
some day the fruits in gravy might not be seasoned with 
something less obvious than salt, and our exit from the 
palace be made feet foremost! And of all these delica¬ 
cies the blind man touched nothing but rice and fruit and 
vegetables. Neither before nor afterward did I ever see 
him break that stern rule. I learned his reason later. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


115 


The moon had risen, and her pale glory transfigured 
the garden into a scene of unearthly beauty. Two trees 
of a kind I had never seen stood before our windows, 
tossing fountains of perfumed rose bloom upward. 
Scarcely a leaf could be seen for the lavish splendour of 
blossom, and the hot night air of June was quivering with 
the almost intolerable sweetness. It called through the 
open window. I could stand it no longer. 

“Revered master, you need repose after the great 
honour done you this day, but for me, having your gra¬ 
cious permission, I would taste the fresh air. Is it per¬ 
mitted that I go into the garden?” 

“My disciple, it is permitted. Return for me in a 
while and you shall lead me to the water that I may in¬ 
hale its coolness, when I have refreshed my soul.” 

Seated, he began to recite the Lotus Gospel in a soft 
monotone, and, standing under the trees, I listened 
awhile. It tranquillized my thoughts after all the fever¬ 
ish agitations of the day. 

“I, the World-Honored, 

Speak the words of truth, 

And wheresoever the Living Word is spoken 
Becomes my shrine, 

And being heard 
By the assembly, 

They chant Holy, Holy!”— 

The hour was infinitely sweet and peaceful. In the 
moonlight the crimson of the blossomed trees had faded 
into ashes of roses—almost grey. The world was closing 
its eyes, for sleep, colour and light were drowsing, and 



116 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


the quiet voice within intoned the pure words of the 
Gospel of Asia like a lullaby. For a moment I almost 
forgot the wicked palace and the sinister lights that shone 
from its windows illuminating who knows what counsels 
of deceit and cruelty. 

As I stood there, not thinking, but bathing a weary 
mind and body in the wells of stillness, a light footfall 
came softly between the two great bronze cranes by the 
edge of the little lake. A woman. My senses sprang 
to swift attention. She walked straight toward me, un¬ 
shrinking. I could scarcely believe my eyes for a mo¬ 
ment. And yet, with a swift flash of thought I remem¬ 
bered that the Empress was accused not only of permit¬ 
ting but encouraging tremendous departures from ances¬ 
tral customs in her ladies. Some of them went out into 
the city on her secret errands, in sedan chairs, it is true, 
but openly. The Royal lady known as “the Eighth Mar¬ 
ried Sister” was everywhere in Peking, at race meetings, 
restaurants and bazaars and stores. Without an escort, 
with only a lady in attendance, this enterprising young 
person went where she would, almost with the freedom of 
a European. And Peking, not to mention Canton, 
thrilled to far more important scandals of the palace than 
these. Still, in the moonlight and alone, with some filmy 
stuff thrown over her head and face, it was certainly 
startling to see a Palace lady approaching with steady 
assurance. 

She made the usual salutation, bowing and raising her 
crossed hands, and unhesitatingly opened the business, 
in a voice so sweet and low that it harmonized with the 
quiet of the night like dimly heard music. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


117 


“Honourable person, I come with a message from her 
sacred Majesty.” 

I kowtowed as in duty bound. Had it been an im¬ 
perial rescript I must have prostrated myself. I did not 
speak. It was the part of an inferior to await the 
command. 

“Her Majesty has heard disquieting news. It is rep¬ 
resented to her that warships are about to land strong 
large foreign forces to march from Tientsin upon Peking. 
She desires the illumined sage to perform such rites as 
will unfold the truth, and in an hour this unworthy per¬ 
son will return to receive his knowledge and lay it be¬ 
fore the throne.” 

She turned as if to go. Humbly bowing, I desired her 
to do us the honour to delay one instant, that I might 
speak with my master. She bowed in silence and, enter¬ 
ing the room, I interrupted the recitation to tell him in 
Chinese the favour that had befallen him. 

He touched my foot twice with his and replied aloud: 

“Inform the great lady who confers this honour upon 
us that this lowly person will send his soul to search the 
knowledge required by the Divine Empress. His ignor¬ 
ance, however, demands two hours for research.” 

I knew that the double pressure on my foot meant 
“ ’Ware spies,” and remembered that the Empress, fol¬ 
lowing the kindred example of Catherine di Medici in the 
sixteenth century, was said to employ some of her most 
beautiful ladies as spies to worm out the secrets she sus¬ 
pected. I touched his hand as if accidentally, and re¬ 
turned with his message to where the unknown stood in 
the shadow of the trees. She had put back the silk 


118 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


covering from her face pale in the moonlight and I saw 
what some intuition had whispered to me—it was Sie. 
Yet even then I was so startled that I did an incredibly 
foolish thing. The spy business went out of my head as 
if I had never heard it. I forgot every warning, every 
caution—and gave the message in my best Chinese, very 
unlike the clumsiness I had displayed in the Imperial 
Presence, and never noticed what I was doing till too late. 
She bowed, but lingered, poised on one little foot as she 
turned. Not a crippled one. The Manchu women 
have never bound their feet, and there was not one to be 
found in the precincts of the Forbidden City. Then 
again she spoke. 

“Noble person, I have a question to ask.” (I bowed 
again.) “In the presence of her Majesty you displayed 
a dragon of jade, with a rose veining in the wings and 
bearing the mark of the Emperor Ch’ien Lung. That 
dragon belonged to my great-great-grandmother. It was 
given to her father by the Emperor and—” 

I interrupted, a discourtesy unheard of in China, but 
those who read will excuse me even as did Sie. 

“I know, lady. She was a foreigner. She was 
English. Her name was Dorothy Keith.” 

“It is true—true,” she said in a low eager voice. “I 
cannot say her name, but it is true. And she and her 
husband were lost and with them the dragon of the Em¬ 
peror. How comes it that you possessed it?” 

“Lady, it is a strange story and a long one. But I 
am of your great-great-grandfather’s family. My name 
is John Mailer dean.” 

She stood staring at me in the moonlight, white as 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


119 


death with the shock of surprise. It was then I remem¬ 
bered that I had behaved like a criminal lunatic. I had 
given the whole show away, my master’s as well as my 
own, to one of the Empress’s ladies. It was too late. 
I could not deny what I had said. We were at the mercy 
of a stranger woman. 

“Then why, why are you here?” she asked in a gasp. 

“To seek for you. You and I are of the same blood. 
I know of wealth that is yours, of friends who would wel¬ 
come you. And now that I have told you the truth, you 
can give me to death if you will. But I am your cousin, 
far off indeed, but still your cousin.” 

“To death?” she said slowly. “No, indeed. You are 
the only one of my blood left alive. My father was 
executed by the Empress. My mother committed sui¬ 
cide. I have no brother. A cousin is as a brother. 
My lips are shut. But now I dare not stay. That in¬ 
deed would be death for us both. Distrust all around 
you. We shall meet again.” 

She was gone, flitting away between the bronze cranes. 
The whole amazing episode had taken possibly three 
minutes. But it had changed my whole outlook for all 
that. I was not sorry—I was glad I had told her. So 
that was she—blue-eyed, black-haired, beautiful, a girl 
with more than a grain of her ancestor’s courage and 
resolution! The Manchu is a stronger stock than the 
Chinese, at all events as far as the women go; but there 
was also John Mallerdean behind that firmness and cour¬ 
age, or I was much mistaken. I remembered how in my 
master’s vision she had confronted the Empress, and I 
was proud of this strange offshoot of the family tree. 




120 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


But should I tell my master? With all these thoughts 
dancing in my brain I went in and found him waiting for 
me. 

“Lead me out, my disciple, into the quiet of the night. 
Even to my blinded eyes there is a difference between the 
glare of the sun and the soft darkness. And I must re¬ 
fresh myself before I undertake this new task for the 
sacred Empress. My old brain is weary.” 

I led him out slowly, and to the marble edge of the 
little lake whence rose a divine coolness. The moon 
swam in it like a goldfish with a ripple of golden scales. 
Not a sound, not a step in the garden. It was an Eden 
of quiet and behind us the wicked lights of the palace. 
Certainly it was an hour for silence and meditation, but 
for me life was too urgent. I knew it would be im¬ 
possible for me to keep the thing from his perfect trust¬ 
fulness, and I told him exactly what had happened, ex¬ 
pecting a severe rebuke at the least, possibly instant dis¬ 
missal. I spoke in Hakka and scarcely above my breath. 
No rebuke came. 

“My disciple, you should have consulted me; but yet 
—I know not. Fate is leading you down the appointed 
ways, and what is my ignorance that it should intrude? 
And also it is to be seen that this lady has the courage 
of the women of your race. It may be that it is well for 
my purpose as for yours that this has happened, and in 
any case what is done is done and we must abide it.” 

There was no more to be said. I ventured, standing 
as we were in the middle of the garden, to ask whether 
he had remembered any of his “sight” for the Empress, 


THE TREASURE OF HO 121 

and when he replied that he remembered nothing, at his 
request I told him what had passed. 

“Let nothing escape you, my disciple,” he said ear¬ 
nestly. “Note it all. It is certainly by the favour of the 
Blessed One that we have been given this garden, for 
here we may exchange a few words in safety, which is 
more than I dared to hope. Now let us not speak for 
ten minutes, that I may compose my thoughts and bathe 
them in pure air, and then I will send my soul in search 
of the truth.” 

If it appear strange that I never questioned the hon¬ 
esty of his visions, let it be remembered that I had my¬ 
self experienced the wonder of his story of Yang Lien’s 
interview with the Empress. But far and away beyond 
that were the man’s own transparent honesty and good¬ 
ness. I could no more have disbelieved a word he said 
to me than I could have doubted my own father’s asser¬ 
tion. But a strange thing indeed was in store for me 
that strange night. I will come to it presently. 

As we walked slowly up and down in the moonlight 
I asked him the question that was always in my mind. 
How are these strange things done in the Orient which in 
the West are called fraud, spiritualism, or occultism? I 
had seen them myself in past years, things inexplicable 
on any theory that I could form. Fraud, of course, one 
meets in the Orient as elsewhere, but beyond and above 
it lies a whole world of happenings. The people take 
these things as natural. They see no miracle in them. 
They accept them and pass on. Is this ignorant credu¬ 
lity or is it instinctive knowledge? 


122 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


He seated himself by the water, and his face assumed 
that inward expression I knew by this time. 

“My disciple, it is fitting that you should ask and I 
answer. The West does not, cannot understand, for it 
has sat at the feet of another Teacher, and even His 
counsels it despises. But your men of science have of 
late made the discovery which has been our daily bread 
for ages. They teach now that within every man and 
woman there is a second self—a strange self which for¬ 
gets nothing, which can act upon the body and constrain 
it to health or disease according to its own will. Con¬ 
vince this inner self in a man that he is dying, and he 
will die. Convince it that health awaits him, and he 
will recover. This inner self is wiser than the outer, 
and yet in some ways more foolish. What is it? Your 
wise men cannot tell. We know.” 

The Empress’s attendant, Li Lien-ying, passed taking 
the air as we were. He strolled within hearing distance. 
I caught the glint of his eye as it keenly observed us. I 
touched my master’s foot twice. He slightly raised his 
voice, and the gross man stayed his feet to listen to this 
unearthly wisdom. A strange auditor. 

“My disciple, we know that each man has not one life 
but many lives, and that he passes up all the stair of ex¬ 
istences until he gains the highest. From each life he 
carries to the next the spark of the Immortal, and also 
experience . What use, you will ask, is experience if 
memory is not with it? It is latent, my disciple. In 
every man’s heart it lies passive, waiting the call. And 
when a man learns how to wake and control that inner 
self he can do signs and wonders, for this aggregated 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


123 


experience and imagination is the inner self newly dis¬ 
covered in the West, and we long ago discovered it as the 
pearl in the oyster, and clasped its hand, and so have 
done marvels. The spirits do not return, they have gone 
forward to their next lesson in life. There is nothing 
supernatural, all is law. But within every human body 
is power, layer below layer of experience and knowledge, 
and this is allied with the highest and the lowest, and 
when a man has gained this power he can do mighty 
deeds for good and evil.” 

Li Lien-ying had drawn nearer. His coarse face was 
alight with curiosity now. 

“Good and evil, illuminated sage?” he said. “Can a 
man make others do his will? Can he attain great 
riches? If so, inform this ignoble person how the secret 
may be attained!” 

The Blind Man of Hupei knew the voice, and felt the 
devil behind it, but he replied with serene composure: 

“This secret can be attained by self-mastery whether 
for good or ill, by discipline, by self-denial. Not in this 
life—not in this, oh, powerful person, shall you handle 
that power! The day will come, but is far off.” 

Li Lien-ying scowled, and passed on, passing and re¬ 
passing slowly. 

“But you, my disciple, can learn this secret, for the 
power is in you. Your inner and outer selves shall clasp 
hands, and you will walk illuminated and know that 
‘miracles’ are easy to be wrought, but are nothing—so 
great is what lies beyond them.” 

He relapsed into a tranquil silence which I would not 
disturb. I had glimpses then, but his words came true. 




124 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


I have learned that secret. My blind eyes are opened. 
After a while I led him back to the room. He looked 
pale and exhausted. 

“To-night I can see no more,” he said, “I am weary. 
See for me, my disciple.” 

I started back. 

“I see? How can I? My master, I know nothing.” 

“See for me,” he repeated. “Place yourself before me 
and I will give you sight.” 

I own I was greatly alarmed, but it never entered into 
my head to disobey. Every hour the quiet power, calm 
and certainty of that man strengthened on me. So I can 
imagine the great Oriental sages of the past, impregnable 
in inner wisdom. His blindness mattered nothing to him 
—I think it had even been a gain, so lucid, so untroubled 
was the true vision. 

So I sat before him obedient, and he said: 

“Look steadily at the crystal ball in my right hand. 
Think of nothing but that. Relax your reason. You 
have none. You are as a little child who sleeps in its 
mother’s arms and draws unconscious life from the con¬ 
tact. Be silent. Look! And, till I bid you forget, 
remember!” 

I fixed my eyes on a small crystal ball in his hand. 
The light swam in it. It invaded my brain. It grew, 
it was larger, brighter, almost unbearably brilliant, like 
a sun, then suddenly it broke up into a thousand dancing 
stars, and I heard a loud command. 

“I loose you! Go!”—and black darkness followed. 

Parkness and utter calm. Then a tiny bright picture 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


125 


painted on it very far off like a scene through the re¬ 
versed end of a telescope. A strange picture. Men 
marching, marching, in seemingly endless files. It en¬ 
larged as they came toward me exactly like a picture in 
the movies. They tramped steadily on, dusty, grimy, 
but relentless—Europe on her way to try conclusions 
with Asia. Not all European, though, for I saw the files 
of Japanese soldiers, short, sturdy, unflinching in their 
stolid calm as I had often seen them on my holiday 
rambles in Japan. Asia divided against herself, but if 
ever she marches as one man, let Europe stand from 
under! 

Where were they facing? Toward the Nei Cheng, the 
Tartar city of Peking, the mighty walls frowning down 
their approach. 

I could almost fancy I heard the measured thud of 
their stride, all was so real and clear. 

Now, a thing impossible in real life, I saw the great 
walls dissolve, as it were, before them. They fluttered 
like scenery cloths in a theatre, and the marching men 
passed through their sixty-feet bulk as if they were 
morning mist. The purple, vermilion, orange scrollwork 
on the pagoda above the high archway faded like sun¬ 
rise glories. The men tramped through as if they did 
not know they were there. They modernized with their 
stern military presence the overpowering antiquity of 
this marvellous city where men have gathered for twelve 
hundred years before Christ. They swept on. They 
made for Canal Street where stands the British Legation 
walled and guarded. The gates were flung open. I 


126 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


saw the English flag waving, the tumult of many people 
rejoicing; women and children running to meet the troops 
and then—darkness! 

Darkness swallowed it up. I saw no more. 

Was I asleep or dead? Then from the darkness, an¬ 
other picture shaped, small and gemlike at first, but 
enlarging like the other. Grey dawn. A gate of the 
imperial palace unknown to me, but which mysteriously 
I knew to be the Gate of Military Prowess. No military 
prowess about it now. Two country carts. A man and 
a woman with others about them, the man, young, pallid, 
ill-fed looking, in a robe of black; the woman elderly and 
in the common blue dress of a peasant woman, her hair 
dressed Chinese fashion. But what should a Chinese 
woman be doing in the palace of the foreign rulers? Chi¬ 
nese she was, however, her hair dressed peasant fashion, 
her brows black with fury. I knew her, I knew her—the 
Empress! Li Lien-ying was beside her. She flung out 
her hand with a furious gesture at a beautiful pale woman 
standing by the Emperor, and as I saw Li Lien-ying grasp 
her shoulder, the picture was gone. Gone like a dream. 

In the terror of it I started up like one suddenly roused 
from sleep, mazed, but remembering perfectly. 

“I have been asleep,” I said; “the most vivid dream I 
ever had in my life. The Empress—” 

The blind man put his finger on his lip and I stopped 
dead. 

“Write,” he said. “Write quickly while it is fresh. 
It fades like morning dew. In ten minutes you will re¬ 
member nothing. Write.” 

He pushed an ink brush and slab to me and I wrote 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


127 


swiftly. Then, by his desire, I led him into the garden 
and read what I had written. He bid me tear off the last 
paragraph and tear it into minutest bits. Half he gave 
me, half he kept, and—we swallowed them! Being sum¬ 
mer, there was no brazier at hand. 

Then on another paper, ornamented to meet the eye of 
royalty, I wrote at his dictation an account of the first 
vision. Of the second only this was written: ‘‘Confused 
tumult at the Gate of Military Prowess. Unworthy per¬ 
sons of the lower class apparently gain admittance.” 


CHAPTER VI 


I T is a fact that when I went out into the garden 
again by his order I could remember neither having 
slept nor dreamed. I remembered what I had writ¬ 
ten, and I knew he said I had seen it, but I had no per¬ 
sonal memory that this was true. And yet, whether it 
was the strange experience I had passed through, I can¬ 
not tell, but I felt more clear, more lucid, than I had 
ever done before. It seemed that every sense was 
sharpened and I might hear and see at incredible dis¬ 
tances. No doubt some weird stimulation of the brain 
by the contact of the blind man’s powerful mind, but 
ecstatic at the moment. Hot wafts of perfume from the 
living, tossing fountains of rose bloom, intoxicated me 
like strong wine. Delicious, heavenly! Never flowers 
smelt like that before. I bent my head among the 
crowded blossoms of the lower boughs to drink it into 
my very being. I swallowed it, breathed it, put my arm 
about the trunk to draw it nearer in all its divine odour 
and beauty. If beauty struck always at the naked nerve 
like that, how should we endure the glory of the world 
about us? 

It was not long before she came. Her loveliness, too, 
was enhanced beyond expression to my new perception. 
When she glided under the trees it almost seemed that 
the moonlight played like harmless fire about her sweet 
shape, and a kind of glory glittered from her eyes—so 
128 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


129 


fair, so delicately beautiful, was she in the dappled ivory 
and ebony of moonlight and shadow. Moving softly, 
she shed enticements as she came. Again I say, if 
beauty shot always such darts of enchantment, how 
should man endure it? 

On she came with her lovely salutation of crossed 
hands as she bowed, and stood beside me. 

“Is the work completed for her auspicious Majesty, 
noble person?” 

“Lady, it is done.” 

I could scarcely speak for looking at this lovely 
daughter of the night and stars. 

“Is it your will that I take it?” she hesitated. 

I stretched out my hand with the paper. I could not 
speak. The silence was intense, for the guns had ceased 
and the night was still as though on tiptoe, with 
parted lips, it were listening for what I would say. The 
moon, the girl’s sweetness, my own exaltation dragged 
me across the line of reticence for better or for worse. 
I caught her hand, and though she shrank back to the 
length of my arm I held her fast. 

“My cousin, I must see you in some place where we 
can speak in safety. There is much, much that I must 
hear and tell you. Tell me when and where.” 

No matter how distant, relationship is sacred in China 
and in calling her “cousin” I traded on that. 

Shrinking, her eyes still faced mine bravely. 

“Noble person—my cousin,” (then she accepted our 
tie!) “I cannot say certainly where, but I must see you 
and soon.” 

We stood handclasped, looking into each other’s eyes. 



130 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“The Old Buddha has kept the jade dragon. She sent 
for the Inventory of Treasure and found it listed among 
the possessions of Ho Shen, that rich man who served the 
Emperor Ch’ien Lung. A list was made of all his 
treasures and they were confiscated to the Emperor who 
succeeded the mighty Ch’ien Lung, and Ho was com¬ 
manded to commit suicide. But when they claimed his 
riches much had disappeared and this dragon with it. 
And now the Empress, with Li Lien-ying, says this 
dragon is a clue to the lost treasure, and if they can find 
the truth of how you, my cousin, became possessed of it 
they may secure it all. Oh, fly, I beseech you, while 
there is time. Not even the wisdom of the blind man 
can save you if they believe you know this secret. Fly!” 

She pulled at her little hand as a bird flutters its wings 
when captured, but I held her fast. 

“My cousin, I will not fly. I also have the sight. I 
am powerful. Tell me quickly, what was Ho to you?” 

“His son married my ancestress, the daughter of John 
Mallerdean, the favoured of the Emperor and Ho. And 
since that we have been in high Court favour until with 
this Empress my people fell into disgrace; but me she 
keeps with her always and I cannot tell why.” 

I released her hand. My brain steadied. The news 
was so vital, the danger so great, that it sobered me 
like the dash of cold water. Instantly I guessed how 
things would be. They would tempt me to reveal my 
secret, using Sie for the purpose. That was why she was 
here now—had not the blind man warned me? In 
ordinary circumstances to approach a Court lady would 
be as impossible as to scale the heights to a star, but now 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


131 


my heart rejoiced, all was well. We could meet in peace. 
I saw a wide road opening before me. 

Though I had released her, womanlike she lingered 
then. 

“My cousin,” she said in a voice soft as murmuring 
water; “I must tell you the shameful truth, and then 
indeed you will leave me for ever. The Empress has 
laid her command on me to gain your trust and tempt 
the truth from you, that you may reveal to me where lies 
the treasure of Ho. And now I have told this hateful 
thing, let me go. But remember that if I seem to seek 
your presence it is not the forwardness of a shameless 
woman, but to save your life and mine. For if I refuse 
they will send another in my place and you are doomed; 
but together we may consider and escape. And yet 
this is not likely, for very terrible is the Empress, and 
Li Lien-ying more terrible still.” 

I needed no assurance of her transparent truth, for 
v/ho could doubt those clear eyes of Western blue, but 
here was assurance. I clasped her hand again. 

“My cousin,” I said earnestly, “this is better than 
good, for now we can meet and I can tell you my story. 
Feign to the Empress that you obey.” 

She made a mute sign, her quick wit grasping the 
situation— 

“Let me go now—now, this instant,” she whispered, 
terrified, next minute. 

I looked round. Down the marble pavement a gross 
figure loomed large in the moonlight—Li Lien-ying. 

“No, no! Seem to speak to me earnestly,” I 
whispered. The gallant little soul! She did it though 


132 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


I could see the quivering of the nerves about her mouth. 
In the faintest whisper she said: 

“That man—that man, he is a fiend. His passion for 
gold and jewels is deep as the sea. Oh, my cousin, he 
and the Empress are terrible. My days are days of fear. 
Oh, that I might die and be at peace, lying in the an¬ 
cestral tombs with the friends who were good to me! 
My life is a heavy burden.” 

Very easily might her earnestness be set down to an¬ 
other cause as she lifted a pleading face to mine. I 
whispered back: 

“I will save you, my cousin. Fear not. Now go. 
Make a signal of confidence to that devil as you pass 
him. Again—fear not. Deliverance is near.” 

I stood alone under the tree. She was gone like a 
spirit. I saw her passing swiftly up the path. I saw 
the smile the brave girl cast on Li Lien-ying, and then 
she rounded a corner and was gone like a lost star. My 
cousin had already a value and interest to me that I 
scarcely understood, though pity goes deep and the hard¬ 
est heart might have pitied a girl in such hands. 

He came up to me fawning, an adept in ingratiation. 

“Was the sight favourable to the illumined sage, wise 
disciple?” 

“The sight was mine, favoured attendant of royal 
persons,” I replied. “My great master was too wearied 
to attempt a flight with the spirits, therefore he sent this 
contemptible person instead, and the Great Wise Spirits 
were favourable, and I saw.” 

“I knew not that you also possessed this magic. May 
this worm ask what was seen?” 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


133 


“Revered one, all information is open to the guardian 
of the inner chambers, but I cannot tell, for it is the 
peculiarity of this sight that it is forgotten on returning 
to the world of men. My master, however, noted my 
poor utterances, such as they were, and the Auspicious 
Empress has them by the hand of yonder lady.” 

“Ay, ay. I have heard this sight is hard to recall,” 
he said, accepting my statement easily. “She is beauti¬ 
ful, that lady! She is a darling of the Empress’s 
approaching age.” 

I bowed in respectful silence. 

“Her parentage is great,” he pursued carelessly. “Her 
influence with the Old Buddha is also great. The man 
to whom that beauty is acceptable will certainly be 
highly favoured by the Motherly Countenance.” 

“That fortunate person will have reason to thank his 
auspicious stars,” I returned. “But the favour of the 
Empress, together with such beauty as this lady’s, is a 
load of good fortune beyond the hope of any but the 
great and powerful.” 

“Those who possess the favour of the Great Wise Spirits 
are both.” His face was a mask of humility with a glint 
of fire in the half-shut eye that lit it. I never saw a face 
I liked less and never shall. “May I ask,” he went on, 
“if the august person to whom I speak is of the high 
birth that his distinguished appearance suggests?” 

“My birth is scarcely more than respectable, but my 
education is good and I write and compose in Mandarin 
like a literate, though unluckily a want of experience in 
the colloquial makes my speech disagreeable in the ears of 
the condescending person I address,” 




134 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“Not at all, not at all! It is jewelled with eloquence 
and modesty,” he said with the politest insincerity. 
Then, changing the subject: “To a man of your promi¬ 
nent merit I cannot be wrong in saying that the position 
of public affairs is very grave and is moreover hampered 
by the emptiness of the treasury, the Old Buddha’s in¬ 
exhaustible charity to her subjects having reduced her 
purse even below the limits of wisdom. It is vain to 
attempt to check the maternal impulses, though this un¬ 
worthy one has done his best.” 

This was pretty well! In common with every edu¬ 
cated person in China I knew of the vast sums spent on 
the Empress’s pleasures, on the summer palace, on other 
indulgences less reputable. I knew well that the creature 
before me had feathered his nest to the tune of millions 
—I knew much more, but I took it all with unctuous 
gravity. 

“Is it not said by the sage of sages, ‘Behave with 
generosity in order to illustrate harmony and benignity’? 
Her Majesty’s reward will be universal affection and a 
peaceful longevity.” 

“Doubtless. Yet it is very inconvenient at the mo¬ 
ment when the Old Buddha has anxieties and expenditure 
beyond the common. The man who could through his 
communion with the Great Wise Spirits or in any other 
way put her in the track of augmenting her resources 
just now would receive rewards beyond the dreams of 
fairies.” 

“Fortunate indeed would be that man!” said I with 
pious warmth. He drew a little nearer. 

“Your master, learned disciple; is it true that his 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


135 


powers are so great? Could anything of a solid nature 
be hoped from him?” 

The man was as superstitious as he was dangerous. I 
met him in his own vein, with a confidential tone and eye. 

“Does your Excellency recall the great Emperor Wu? 
If so, you will recall how Li Shao Kun declared in his 
presence: £ I know how to harden snow and change it into 
white silver. I know how cinnabar transforms its na¬ 
ture and passes into yellow gold. I can rein the flying 
dragon and visit the extremities of the earth; I can 
bestride the hoary crane and soar above the nine degrees 
of heaven V This he said and this he did and so be¬ 
came the trusted adviser of the Emperor, and such and 
no other are the powers of my master.” 

“Marvellous! Marvellous! ” he said with greedy pleas¬ 
ure. “The virtues of the just are ever blessed with pros¬ 
perity. I thank you, wise disciple, and in return for 
these sprinklings of wisdom I beseech you not to close 
your own eyes to your stupendous possibilities of 
advancement.” 

We parted with elaborate courtesies. He went up the 
marble steps at the end of the garden with the light 
and soundless tread so often seen in very stout people, 
and I returned indoors still with that strange illumina¬ 
tion upon me. I felt that I had been able to see every 
tortuous winding of his brain. Sie was to be loosed 
upon me for the finding of the treasure, and a simple 
Hakka gentleman was likely indeed to be beguiled by a 
Court beauty. They never suspected that John Mailer- 
dean was before them, a man in whose veins ran kindred 
blood to the Empress’s favourite. If they ever guessed 


136 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


that—for me, six inches of cold steel; for Sie, a pinch of 
the Empress’s famous pink powder warranted to insure 
dreamless sleep. It might be so yet; but at present I 
was playing them, not they me. 

I longed to communicate all this to my master, but it 
was late and the day had been too full of storm and 
stress. We both needed rest. When I entered he was 
peacefully reciting some lines of the Lotus Scripture: 

“These men who believe, 

Have knowledge deep, 

Strong-hearted, swift to follow 
The wisdom of the illumined. 

All wisdom rare and precious 
Is theirs—” 

I stood a while listening. What wisdom, what forces 
were at this wise man’s disposal? I would ask him, and 
in truth be his disciple. There was much in him that 
entirely passed my understanding. 

Then, intruding on his quiet ecstasy, I begged him to 
sleep, saying, for I knew it would be the best argument, 
how sorely I myself needed rest. He rose at once and I 
did all the little services his blindness needed, and very 
soon the rooms were dark and quiet and we slept. Did 
cruel stealthy eyes watch us even in sleep? It might 
well be. 

I rose refreshed in the early dawn, and still that same 
keenness of inward vision was upon me. I have since 
learned that this is often a result of being “sent on the 
quest” as they call it, by an adept possessing a the high 
wisdom.” For there is a high wisdom and a low in what 


THE TREASURE OF HO 137 

the world is pleased to call “magic” and the one uplifts 
and exalts while the other degrades and enervates. 

I strolled up and down by the little lake while my 
master performed his morning devotions. 

The story was gradually clearing up from all the mis¬ 
statements. Ho’s wealth was rightfully his, earned in 
the service of the greatest Emperor of the Manchu dy¬ 
nasty. That Emperor’s unworthy son and successor had 
obliged him to suicide that he might seize his treasure— 
an old story in Oriental courts where it is a frightful 
danger to be rich. Partly foreseeing his miserable end, 
Ho had (through John Mallerdean) secured a few 
crumbs of it in the Temple of the August Peace. A few 
crumbs to him whose personal fortune at his death was 
estimated roughly by the imperial authorities at a sum 
represented by seventy millions sterling and later, when 
the calculations were concluded, at almost double that 
amount. I could not form any estimate of how much 
was concealed in the temple, but it was clear as noonday 
to me now that there must be considerably more than the 
priest had shown me. Very likely he knew of no more. 
Such a detail as that would be likely to escape “the 
august vision,” as his curious way of preserving historical 
information is called by adepts. The Keith share in the 
matter was becoming clear too. It seemed extremely 
probable that John Mallerdean’s father-in-law, Colonel 
Keith, was also an agent of Ho and was aiding his son- 
in-law to transfer the treasure by different means and 
times to a place of safety. How little he could have 
foreseen that a descendant of his daughter Dorothy 
Would be the sole claimant of the treasure he was help- 


138 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


ing to hide! An important question was whether the 
Temple of the August Peace was the only place they had 
chosen for concealment. That all the precious eggs 
would be in one basket did not strike me as probable 
where such men as John Mailer dean and Ho himself 
were concerned. But where? China is a wide field of 
search. 

Be that as it might, Sie was the true heiress to her an¬ 
cestor’s estate—the poor survival of what had been swept 
into the imperial coffers. Mine it could never be. It 
was hers, and if strength and insight were given me she 
should not only have it, but be released from the hate¬ 
ful slavery of the Court and the domination of the Em¬ 
press and Li Lien-ying. So far all was clear. But one 
thing as yet I failed to understand—why the Empress 
who had shown herself so merciless to the family should 
show favour to this one sad remnant of their fallen 
fortunes. Why did she keep Sie about her? Perhaps 
she herself might throw light on this doubtful point. 
There was another thing—why and how had the blind 
man been moved by the mention of the name of John 
Mallerdean? 

All that day the guns boomed on the tortured legation. 
Dreadful stories circulated of the miseries endured within 
the slender defence of the walls. The cries of the native 
Christians, cruelly slaughtered in the streets, at times 
pierced even the tranquillity of the Empress’s gardens. 
And many were done to death who had never “eaten the 
new religion.” The Palace attendants admitted as much. 
Fox-face, with a careless gesture, observed to my master, 
“When the fire rages common pebble and precious jade 


THE TREASURE OF HO 139 

will be consumed together.” But this seemed to trouble 
no one. All must take their chance. 

We spent most of the day under the willows by the 
lake working out the Old Buddha’s horoscope. These 
occult matters have always interested me, and I had 
taken them up as a secondary interest to my hobby of 
the early Korean potteries, so that I was not only able to 
follow intelligently, but also to be of real service 
to my blind master in working out the scheme. I may 
as well own at once that taking the data universal in 
China, the coincidence of the planetary influences with 
the history of that amazing woman was perfectly 
astonishing. 

They gave her all the courage of a man and more 
than the ordinary man’s intelligence. They traced her 
from her lowly beginning to the dizzy heights she had 
reached. They did not spare her private character, but 
showed influences at work there which an Oriental ruler, 
whether man or woman, was unlikely to resist, and re¬ 
port spoke in every corner of the Empire of the results. 
They revealed the hidden springs of character which had 
made her the merciless tyrant of the unhappy Emperor 
who was now scarcely even a figurehead. If I had been 
working the horoscope in utter ignorance of whose I had 
in hand, this still must have been the result. Strange! 

And then, having completed the past, we came to the 
starry auguries for the future. 

“Here,” said the blind man, in Hakka, “we must per¬ 
ceive with perfect vision, but express ourselves with the 
utmost caution. Work out, disciple, under my instruc¬ 
tion the ephemera of the following eight years, for I have 


140 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


had reason to suppose—” he paused, and I saw his mean¬ 
ing and set myself to the calculations. They were 
elaborate, for we had also to consider the Emperor’s 
horoscope and that of the Empress Consort to elucidate 
the Empress’s. 

After I had finished he sat considering. The facts 
were consecutive. First, the Boxer business would col¬ 
lapse, dragging the dynasty to fearful peril and to flight 
from Peking. Second, she would “lose face” before the 
Allies and be compelled to make reparation for the siege 
of the legations. Third, the life of the Emperor was 
bound up with her own. She would die on the day 
following his death. Fourth, the present Empress Con¬ 
sort, then acting as regent, would complete* the ruin of 
the Manchu dynasty. Fifth, the Empress would “recover 
face” and prestige with the Allies by her cunning, and 
her power would endure until her death. Sixth, her life 
and that of the Emperor would last but eight years 
longer. 

He sat considering a while, and then said: 

“Put all this in writing, omitting entirely the fourth 
and sixth clauses. These remain secret between you and 
me. The last I have known many years for my fate 
and hers coincide. Power was inevitable for us both, 
born under the same aspects, but hers has been of this 
world and mine of another. The impulses which have 
borne fruit of disaster were in me as in the Old Buddha, 
but I was exposed to an influence which bestowed on 
me the upward-looking vision which she has not. Great 
and wonderful are the mysteries of the heavens and the 
fettered hands of man.” 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


141 


I ventured to say it seemed incredible that the far 
distant and unconcerned planets should influence the lot 
of human beings, and added some facts of modern science 
which cast ridicule on the notion that such a thing could 
be possible. He heard me with dignified patience and 
rejoined: “Science is but an infant stumbling on the 
path of knowledge. Feeble, yet bold. Disciple, I do not 
assert that it is the stellar influence Which produces these 
effects. I do not know. I assert only that by using 
these calculations one obtains information which can be 
verified. Yourself has seen the truth of the calculations 
you have made so far as they relate to the past. You 
will live to verify these that relate to the future. But 
what I would have you know is this, that when the in¬ 
dwelling (subconscious) self, which is the heritage of 
many past lives and experiences, is at one with the Di¬ 
vine and at one with the outer faculties of the man him¬ 
self, the same knowledge flows in through many channels, 
for all knowledge and wisdom are from the same source. 
I have gained the very same information from clair¬ 
voyance, clairaudience, divination, and in many other 
ways, and always it was the same, and it mattered not 
which means was used. For indeed this inner self when 
rightly dealt with has access to all knowledge, being itself 
immortal and a part of That Which Knows.” 

I thought this explanation as clear and near as one is 
likely to get to the mystery of a tremendous subject. 
It incited me to follow the uphill way he marked for me 
then and later. 

This important matter done, I asked permission to lay 
before him the progress of my own private interest and 


142 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


beseech his advice. I told him all that had happened 
and he listened with the closest attention, entirely ap¬ 
proving the steps I had taken and agreeing with my views 
as to the intentions of the Empress and Li Lien-ying. 
They would certainly use every means to secure the 
knowledge of Ho’s treasure cache from me, and would 
then put me out of the way. He recommended that 
when the Boxer troubles were past I should visit the 
Temple of the August Peace and investigate for further 
treasure if it could be done without exciting the priest’s, 
suspicion, unless I was sure he could be trusted. That 
would really depend upon his attitude to the present rulers 
of China. I must remember that a mighty movement Was 
stirring now against them and sides would be hotly taken, 
therefore, caution! I must mention him to the priest 
and judge by his reception of the name. I thanked him 
as gratefully as I felt, for I was beginning to realize 
that the blind man was a mighty strength in the land, 
with mysterious political powers, also, entirely beyond 
my comprehension. 

I then ventured a step farther. Would he now con¬ 
descend to tell me what he knew of the Mallerdean his¬ 
tory? I remembered vividly with what anxiety I waited 
for his decision, the blood pumping up into my face. 
The prize I had been hunting for two years seemed so 
near me now that everything for or against my winning 
hammered at my heart, and I leave any impartial man 
to judge whether such beauty as Sie’s and such a treasure 
as Ho’s were not enough singly to fire a man into action, 
and, together, to send him through every danger to the 
gallant end. But here I reaped the advantage of my 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


143 


thirty years. I was no hotheaded young donkey to go 
dashing up against the impossible in the shape of the 
Empress and Li Lien-ying. Not I! I knew the tricks 
of the Japanese wrestling which they call jiu-jitsu, and 
applied them here. Stoop to conquer, seem to yield while 
most pushing the action, give an inch that you may gain 
an ell, and above all neglect no scrap of information, for 
any word may be the clue to the maze. 

So while my master hesitated, I dared a propelling 
word: 

“My venerated master, you know the fight is unequal 
between a poor adventurer and these mighty ones. If 
I have any hope of success it is in your wisdom and 
goodness. I beseech you to give me all aid that is law¬ 
ful, and this not for my own merit, for I have none, but 
for the sake of the noble Yang Lien who commended 
me to your guidance, and that of this Lady Sie who is so 
pitifully in the power of those who would use her for the 
basest ends if her own courage and goodness did not be¬ 
friend her.” 

At the mention of Yang Lien’s name I saw a quiver 
of emotion pass over his face. At the mention of Sie’s 
he held his head high like any brave man Who hears of 
the danger of a good woman. Instantly he spoke: 

“My disciple, look about with care and observe 
whether there is any possibility of human ear hearing 
what I would say. I dread, as it were, the very fish 
swimming in the lake.” 

I searched every corner with my eyes. I rose and 
walked behind the great bronze incense burners; the 
marble pillars of the distant pavilion; the tall bronze 


144 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


cranes; behind everything where a rabbit might be hid¬ 
den. I crossed the exquisite little marble bridge which 
centred the lake. Then, at last satisfied, I returned and 
sat myself by his feet and entreated him to go on. Even 
then he spoke in a voice so low that it only just reached 
my ear. 

“Disciple, my great-grandfather was in the service of 
Ho, and, like Ho, a man of ready wit and quick replies. 
But he was an educated man, and though Ho hid his 
want of learning under brilliance of speech, he was 
obliged to lean often on my ancestor to cover his igno¬ 
rance with the brocade of his own learning. It was my 
ancestor who presented John Mallerdean to Ho, and he 
who, when the exalted Emperor was ill, was the means 
of presenting John Mallerdean in the Presence, and he 
cured the Emperor of a dangerous sickness and so se¬ 
cured his own fortune. And before Ho himself knew 
that he was doomed my ancestor knew it and bid him 
prepare for the inevitable. So then the three took coun¬ 
sel together—Ho Shen and John Mallerdean and my an¬ 
cestor—and John Mallerdean said: 

“ ‘If all this wealth is to be taken by the new Emperor, 
surely, my masters, it is imperative that a part be saved 
for my Lord’s family who else must starve.’ 

“And so it was agreed among them. Therefore a por¬ 
tion was given to the care of John Mallerdean and a 
portion, by far the most valuable, to my ancestor, and 
each was bidden to take it where he would. For Ho 
trusted them both, knowing them to be honourable men, 
and in that respect his wisdom served him well. But 
this he said very earnestly: 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


145 


“ ‘My servants true and tried, do in this matter what 
is just and honourable and sure shall be your reward in 
this and in lives to come. But hide from me utterly 
where you secure this treasure of mine, for they will 
torture me and in the dire anguish I may speak and 
nothing be left for my descendants/ And all saw that 
this was wise. So, taking them many times to his great 
treasure places, gradually they removed much, and John 
Mallerdean had the help of another man of his own 
country whose name I knew not. But a soldier. 

“Now there was in Peking at the time a man of the 
mixed blood, yours and ours—a bad man who brought 
shame on his people, and this half-breed made his living 
among the Canton merchants because he knew the ways 
of both peoples and Was a cunning and skilful go- 
between; and Ho had employed him in some transactions 
with the English, and then, with the pride and careless¬ 
ness of great men, used him no more and forgot him. 
But this Vernon did not forget, and on all that was done 
he kept a jealous eye, and it is known that he informed 
the Emperor that Ho Was secreting his riches, and so 
hastened his end.” 

“Was there any quarrel between John Mallerdean and 
this Vernon, my wise master?” I asked, marvelling to 
see the skein of fate unwinding itself so simply from all 
its tangles. 

“That I cannot tell, but this I know, that on a certain 
wintry day John Mallerdean set out carrying treasure 
in small bulk, for the three knew not that the fall of Ho 
was upon them. And before he went he called my an¬ 
cestor apart and said in his ear: 


146 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“ ‘Honourable friend, the time is come. I go, but I 
may not return. You, I know, go by a different road to 
the same end, and dealing with great men and their 
treasure is perilous work and it is very possible that 
neither of us will escape our doom. Were it well if we 
exchanged some token of where the treasure is hidden, 
so that if one dies the other’s secret is not utterly lost?’ 

“And he answered: 

“ ‘This is a good thought, but let neither tell the other 
plainly, for if we are caught and tortured the pain might 
wring it from us. Tell it in a mystery so that if we 
shriek it out in agony those who hear may not under¬ 
stand. It is a chance the more for our master’s 
treasure.’ 

“And John Mallerdean said: 

“ ‘Good thought, my faithful friend. Then if I return 
no more, ask in the Tiger’s Den where I have hidden my 
secret!’ 

“And my ancestor laughed and replied: 

“ ‘The tiger is a deadly beast. For me, I go farther. 
If I die, ask the Thousand Wise Men what I entrusted 
to them.’ 

“And they separated, neither knowing more than this, 
and John Mallerdean never returned and men believed 
he had been false to his trust and had fled away with Ho’s 
treasure in a great English ship that waited for him in 
the Gulf of Pechili. And my ancestor was caught and 
tortured, suffering in silence, until just before the breath 
left his mutilated body they questioned him for the last 
time, and in a great voice he cried: ‘Seek in the Tiger’s 
Den. I know no more.’ And so died. And when Ho 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


147 


himself was tortured, in his anguish he revealed where 
his treasure was hidden, but what he did not know he 
could not tell, and therefore these two hiding places 
escaped.” 

“Your ancestor was a brave and faithful man, master, 
more faithful than mine, for he revealed the hiding place 
of the emeralds to Vernon that he might save his wife 
by a swift death. She was a woman and in pitiful dan¬ 
ger, but a trust is a trust.” 

“You are hasty, disciple. It is not permitted so to 
judge the deeds of those Who have gone before us. 
Those emeralds were John Mallerdean’s own, not Ho’s 
treasure, if I recall your own story. They were the fee 
of the Emperor Ch’ien Lung to John Mallerdean for 
many services and the cure of his disease. John Mal¬ 
lerdean was a true man. He sacrificed his own hard-won 
wealth rather than betray the trust Ho reposed in him. 
Ask pardon of the ancestral spirit and be slower to 
judge.” 

I accepted the rebuke with shame. True—and this 
opened up the whole question, for now it appeared prob¬ 
able that all the riches I had seen at the temple were 
the property of John Mallerdean and Colonel Keith, who 
had finished their work and were possibly leaving China, 
knowing that Ho was doomed and they with him if they 
lingered; and the former had used it as a bait to draw 
the half-breed from the real treasure. Good man, John 
Mallerdean! That girl Sie came honestly by her fine 
courage and quick Wits. They were a better heritage 
than even her ocean-blue eyes. 

“Forgive the dullness of this contemptible one,” I 


148 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


said, feeling a worm before his calm judgment. “Your 
rebuke is well deserved, most wise, and I accept it 
humbly. Does your inspired wisdom then believe I have 
seen nothing of the true treasure as yet?” 

“Nothing. John Mallerdean took his secret with 
him. But return to the temple and question and observe 
with caution—such caution as you would use in ap¬ 
proaching a sleeping tiger, for the Empress is up and 
doing.” 

I meditated. 

“And your ancestor, wise one— Can your super¬ 
natural intelligence decipher his hint of the Thousand 
Wise Men?” 

“Not as yet. But now I know the time has come I 
will use all my means to decipher it. What he said 
before death was set aside as the delirium of a dying 
man, and I should not now be repeating it but that your 
bond with John Mallerdean gives it life. The conver¬ 
sation between the two men was overheard by the wife 
of my ancestor and she repeated it on her deathbed to 
my grandfather, her son, and it has floated down like 
a straw on a river. It was thought they were jesting 
with death.” 

“Men have done that before!” I said. “Perhaps it 
was no more.” 

We sat silent, with the wind softly lifting the willow 
branches and the crystal wind bells suspended to them— 
a day and place of peace if it had not been for the boom¬ 
ing of the guns. That scarcely ceased night or day. It 
was a mystery to many how the legation contrived to 
reply—whence their store of ammunition was drawn. I 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


149 


lived in terror those days of hearing the answering rattle 
cease, for that silence would mean the end. 

And as we sat the blind man said suddenly: 

“Repeat your story from the beginning,” and com¬ 
posed himself to listen. 

I did so, touching every detail, however small, for I 
knew a master mind was listening who would not be 
swayed aside from the truth by anything he heard, and 
would perceive a clue where I saw nothing. He put his 
finger on it instantly. 

“The river before you climbed to the temple— What 
was its name?” 

“The Flying Tiger!” I said, a blaze of light bursting 
on my dull brain. 

“Of course,” he said composedly. “That is your clue. 
That river will lead you to the secret. As to the Thou¬ 
sand Wise Men—it will come in due time. No need for 
haste. The Empress must be dealt with first. Keep 
your own counsel. And now tell me who comes, for I 
hear steps.” 

It was more than I could, for he had the amazing per¬ 
ception of the blind developed even beyond what is usual 
in them. Quite two minutes elapsed before I saw Sie 
descending the marble steps that led to the Empress’s 
quarters, and even then I could hear nothing for she came 
like a roseleaf floating on a breeze. I stood up, conscious 
that my heart was beating. 

Let me recall that little gracious figure as she glided 
toward us in the declining sunshine, for I had never had 
the chance to study her before. I can never say she 
walked, for that word fails utterly to convey the melting 


150 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


grace of every movement. In her long, swathed, bro¬ 
caded coat of peach-blossom satin with a rich bordering 
of worked flowers, you could not see her little feet. You 
could not see her little hands for the splendid sleeves that 
fell like drapery below them. Her face was no more 
Chinese than the Empress’s. The Manchu type, espe¬ 
cially in these highly, bred women, is much nearer to the 
European. Her eyes had not the Chinese slant. They 
looked out straight and clear under the Mallerdean black 
brows. The nostrils were delicately cut, the mouth beau¬ 
tiful with a fruitlike fullness of the little lower lip where 
it kissed the upper—infinitely seductive. Put my cousin 
Sie in our dress, and who would guess her strange event¬ 
ful history? None. And if any think I exaggerate— 
let him look at the portraits of the Manchu Empress 
among her court ladies and he will see that many of them 
might pass unnoticed in Paris or London except for their 
beauty. Not that it matters. I know beauty when I 
see it, be it East or West, and Sie was like a rose in 
June, with her black hair smooth as satin over her 
jasmine brows. 

As we both rose and bowed before her, she came and 
saluted us and said softly: 

a The message of the Empress. She has read the words 
of the illumined sage and she commands that he and his 
disciple attend her at the Hour of the Dog, bringing 
with them her completed horoscope.” 

She made as if to go, but I intervened. 

“My cousin,” I said, “this superior man knows our 
story. If you have time to spare I would tell you a part 
of it in his venerable presence.” 


THE TREASURE OF HO 151 

She looked startled for a moment—a ripple on the sur¬ 
face, and then with a look of perfect trust, replied: 

“My cousin, you are as my brother. What then have 
I to fear? What you think well is well, and I bow before 
the venerable person who condescends to be interested 
in this humble woman.” 

I cannot express how much her words delighted me. 
There was a straight, direct courage about her that was 
the last thing I could expect from an Oriental woman. 
It opened the way of hope for us both as nothing could 
have done. If she understood and dared, if we acted 
together with the blind man to back us, I believed we 
might yet be too much for the Empress and Li Lien-ying. 

She stayed half an hour by the little jewelled watch at 
her girdle. She sat on a marble bench beside us, and 
listened with absorbed interest to my story of the Temple 
of the August Peace. I had such faith in her by this 
time that I told it all as straight and true as I had told 
it to Yang Lien and the blind man. She paled a little 
on hearing the frightful fate of her great-great-grand¬ 
parents, but after all—even in China the passionate 
emotions can hardly reach over four generations, and I 
could see that it was my connection with it and with her 
that naturally interested her most. 

Twice Li Lien-ying passed and shot a look of approval 
at our little group of three. He had an absolute and 
well-founded reliance on Sie’s powers of beguilement, and 
I could see the greed in his eyes and the covert leer of 
satisfaction. It pleased me uncommonly—considering all 
things. 

When I had finished my story and the blind man had 


152 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


added his, she was in possession of all our facts, and I 
begged her to give us hers. She spoke modestly but 
clearly. 

“Wise and learned man, I have but little to say to you 
and my honoured cousin, for what knowledge and insight 
has a woman? I have been as a bird blown down a 
great wind with no power against it. The child of whom 
you heard in your vision in the temple was placed, as the 
priest told you, in the noble Yang family of Peking, Man- 
chus and courtiers, and there at the age of sixteen she 
married a great Minister of State who took her for her 
beauty and accomplishments. The Emperor who hated 
Ho died, killed by lightning at Jehol, and the family rose 
high in Court favour with succeeding Emperors and at the 
time I was born it seemed that we were among the great¬ 
est. Then my father offended the present Empress by 
memorializing against her extravagence and ill living, and 
he was beheaded and my mother committed suicide and I 
was left desolate at the age of four. All my father’s 
possessions were taken by the Crown and I owe the very 
garments I wear to the bounty of the Empress. I am 
now eighteen, and I am told that in a year I shall be 
married, but to whom I cannot tell.” 

“My noble daughter, is the Motherly Countenance 
harsh to you?” asked the blind man. 

“Harsh even to blows, great sage. But not only to 
me— You know her temper.” 

“I know it. Then do you desire deliverance?” 

“With tears and prayers.” 

“What would you do if you were free?” 

“Venerable sage, I hear that there are many girls in 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


153 


this my country now Who desire education and the power 
it brings. If I had the money of which my good cousin 
speaks I would go to Europe and be taught, returning 
to teach these pitiable ones who walk in a great dark¬ 
ness of ignorance.” 

He smiled with approval. 

“My noble daughter, it is a good thought. Doubt¬ 
less it comes from your ancestral spirits who were learned 
people. I believe a life new and beneficent will be yours. 
But great perils must first be met and conquered. Have 
reliance on your cousin. In his country women are not 
always the prey and man the hunter. They clasp hands 
as equals. I desire that before me and in the presence 
of the all-seeing heaven and earth he swears to protect 
you as his sister until he places you in safety where you 
would be.” 

If I had needed inspiring, his calm confidence and 
Sie’s would have touched me to the quick, but I did not. 
I was already her sworn knight bound to the great ad¬ 
venture. Her blue eyes fettered and armed me. Her 
courage delighted me. It was worth fighting for a com¬ 
rade like that. I laid my hand in the blind man’s and 
swore by the all-viewing heaven and earth that I would 
be a true man to my kindred blood, and would set the 
girl free to follow her own desire. And, when I turned 
and looked at her, two tears that made her eyes April 
bright were clinging to her long black lashes. I thought 
it was then that I began to love her, but who can trace the 
mysterious beginnings? There came a time when I 
thought I never had done anything else. 


CHAPTER VII 


W ITH this information the blind man was able 
to tell me a little more of her family when 
she left us. All China knew of the fearless 
Manchu nobleman Ching Chi, who, sickening at the 
degeneracy of the once conquering Manchu Dynasty, like 
Yang Lien, dared to give the Empress his rebuke. There 
had been a friendship between his father and the Em¬ 
press which perhaps gave him courage to attempt the im¬ 
possible, but it did not save him. Later I saw the me¬ 
morial he sent her and understood with joy that if Sie 
inherited valour from John Mallerdean she did so also 
and at closer quarters from her own father, a true patriot 
if ever there was one. 

It was the Hour of the Dog when we again entered the 
Hall of Reception on our knees. The scene was set ex¬ 
actly as before. The Empress on her stately chair, raised 
a little above us, the Empress Consort, who was under¬ 
stood to share all her statecraft, beside her, watchful 
and sinister, Li Lien-ying at the other side, Sie in the 
background. 

We made the kowtow and respectfully awaited com¬ 
mands; I, meanwhile, taking what glimpses I could in 
an exceedingly cramped position. 

The Empress almost looked her age; the anxiety and 
furious tempers of the last few days were telling visibly 
on her. The eyes were set in dark puffy rings, and the 
154 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


155 


flesh beneath them was discoloured. The lines at the cor¬ 
ners of her mouth looked indented and seemed to pull the 
lips down. Her honorifics of speech were scanty and 
evidently she had no time for politeness. She spoke with 
stern brevity. 

“Blind man, I commanded you to see. Why was this 
young man used?” 

“Celestial Majesty, I, an old man, was so weary that 
my spirit had no strength for the chariot of vision. I 
sent him instead and will guarantee his sight for 
true. His wings are strong; his eyes clear.” 

“Then I demand that he now be sent to see.” 

My horror may be imagined. It flashed on me 
that in the trance where all safeguards of reason are put 
to sleep I might speak some most dangerous truth, might 
implicate Sie and myself beyond hope. And with a 
secondary flash I saw that the Empress might use the 
occasion to question me about the jade dragon. But 
what could I do? You cannot temporize with despots. 
On my knees I waited for what might come. 

“Whether the perturbation of his mind before majesty 
—” began the blind man, and was snapped at instantly 
for his pains. 

“Try. It is your part to obey. Now—I wait!” 

I dared not attempt any signal, and no word was pos¬ 
sible. I caught a glimpse of Sie’s face white as death 
behind the chair. She did not know what to fear, yet 
feared unspeakably. 

The blind man drew from his bosom the crystal— 
held it up, and commanded me to look at it. I stared 
dully at it and the light began to waver and swim in its 


156 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


ball like a moon. I felt my brain dazing—dazing. The 
figures about me wavered and blurred and disappeared. 
Suddenly and amazingly I heard the blind man’s voice 
in some strange language utterly unknown to me. What 
was it? I could not even tell that much, not a word 
could I understand. My fainting brain argued: “Fool¬ 
ish—foolish. I cannot understand”; and then gradually 
my reason lost hold, virtually dead for a time, and in 
that new strange sphere I understood his words as if 
they were my own. “Understand and speak in this lan¬ 
guage and no other, and, when you wake, forget” Then 
all wavered into dark and quiet. 

I knew no more until the picture came, and then I 
saw the dingy Mohammedan mosque at Kuan Shih about 
twenty miles from Peking (a place I had often ridden 
through), and a small crowd of village people gaping and 
staring about it at the Empress as I had seen her before 
in the coarse clothes of a Chinese peasant woman. Her 
hair was dressed fiat to her head, unlike the splendours 
of the black-winged Manchu headdress she almost al¬ 
ways wore. She was getting out of a common country 
cart, travel-stained, old, weary—without any of the ac¬ 
cessories of royalty. But I knew her—who could mistake 
the imperious anger of her face? The Emperor dis¬ 
mounted listlessly from another cart—the doors of the 
Mosque were open, prepared to offer them a miserable 
refuge. She made a motion of disgust and fatigue to a 
man at her elbow. Hush!— I could hear. The Em¬ 
peror, seeming to pluck up a little spirit, looked sullenly 
about him. 

“We have to thank the Boxers for this!” he said. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


157 


A sordid, incredible, revolting picture of royalty in 
deserved downfall. I saw many more details than it is 
needful to tell here. Mule litters setting out; couriers 
arriving; confusion; noise— Then darkness. 

I came back confusedly and slowly without the dim¬ 
mest notion at first where I was. I was lying on the 
ground, the blind man touching my nostrils with some 
essence. The first thing I heard consciously was the 
Empress—raging, furious. 

“What? Never! It cannot be. You have inter¬ 
preted wrongly. Wake him. Drag him up that he may 
speak for himself. Ask him here—before me. Say no 
word to him in that spirit talk. I will have no cheating. 
Speak—or it will be the worse for you.” 

So she raged on. The essence recovered me to that 
same strange lucidity of mind that I had experienced be¬ 
fore. I remembered all but What I had seen—that had 
disappeared like mist from a looking-glass, but I knew 
the blind man had spoken in a strange tongue before I 
was dispatched on my errand, and I trusted to Providence 
for the rest. 

I got slowly on to my knees in the orthodox position. 

“Repeat to me what you have seen just now.” 

“Sacred Majesty, I cannot. I forget.” 

She showed her teeth at me in a kind of snarl. 

“If I have it flogged out of you with bamboos, can you 
remember?” 

“Sacred Majesty, ask the sage. He knows what I 
saw. I know nothing.” 

“What did you see yesterday? You wrote it down 
for your master. You know?” 


158 THE TREASURE OF HO 

I dared not refuse. I repeated the paper we had sent 
by Sie. 

“True, that is it.” Then, turning to the blind man: 
“He spoke in an unknown tongue. Did you interpret 
truly?” 

“Truly, Augustness.” 

“Then you declare that the Court is to flee before the 
Allies?” 

“I declare it, and am willing to perish if it be not true. 
The sight cannot err.” 

“Do we return?” 

“The sight cannot go far into the future. Its domain 
is chiefly the past and present. I cannot tell. Beyond 
a few months, the images waver like reflections in Water. 
But the horoscope reveals this.” 

“What was the language he spoke?” 

“I cannot tell. In this state all languages can be 
spoken and understood. When it is past they are 
forgotten.” 

She paused and considered. 

“Show me the horoscope.” 

It was reverently presented through Li Lien-ying. 
She cast her eyes over it hurriedly, then slowly, then 
with fixed interest. We had divided it into four heads, 
omitting the two clauses which referred to the Empress 
Consort and the length of her own life. The fury died out 
of her face like fire in ash. She paled into a kind of grey 
palloi:, then, rousing herself, she struck her hand with 
its long, gold, jewel-cased finger nail on the paper. 

“It is true?” 

“Sacred Majesty, the stars cannot lie. And your con- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 159 

descension will recall that much of this I predicted 
twenty-four years ago.” 

She turned to Li Lien-ying. 

“Bring here the earlier horoscope.” 

While he was gone she leaned her arm on a rest beside 
her and her chin on her hand, staring with stern fixed 
face into the gathering gloom of the piled shadows in the 
corners of the hall. She was awe-striking then, I own. 
I could read the dominating power that had put her 
where she was, the arbitress of millions of fates. Still 
as death we all waited. Presently she said in a low 
voice that yet was terrible: 

“The Son of Heaven—is it true that I ascend on the 
dragon the next day following his death?” 

“Augustness, it is true. This I know for certain, 
having had it by many means of knowledge, which all 
agree in one.” 

“Strange!” she said, and relapsed into meditation. 

When Li returned with a cylindrical case in his hand, 
the sound of his step was relief for it relaxed a tension 
scarcely endurable. He unrolled the paper before her, 
and she read, holding the new one in her hand for 
comparison. 

As she read I ventured a look at Sie. The colour had 
returned to her face, her eyes were steady and calm. 
Whatever my ordeal had been, I read that I had passed 
through it without betrayal. I hoped once more. 
Presently the Empress laid down both papers. 

“Blind man, the predictions of your earlier horoscope 
have been fulfilled. You are a great sage. I prize 
your counsel above any I possess for you have the courage 


160 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


to speak truth, and the rest tremble and fawn and lie. 
Now tell me, what shall I do? Great are my straits.” 

“Sacred Majesty, outside the sight I have no wisdom. 
I, with my disciple, can see sights, but how to deal with 
them is a case for the mighty, not for this contemptible 
one. I lay my hand on my mouth.” 

She meditated a moment, staring into the gloom. 

“In dealing with the rulers of other countries,” she 
said at last, “the wise Chia Li said long since that the 
right course is to tempt them with all the allurements. 
Presents of wealth. Rich food and banquets. Musical 
maidens, fine jewels and beautiful women. To simulate 
affection, to express honeyed sentiments, to treat one’s 
inferiors as equals. This is the way to win their friend¬ 
ship and deceive them for our good. What think you, 
blind man, of this course of conduct? Gain them I 
must.” 

“That it well befits your sacred Majesty and that it 
is the wisest wisdom this world has to offer,” he replied 
meekly; and well could I read the inner meaning of his 
words! She could not, and smiled gratified. 

“Li Lien-ying, go out and instantly dispatch, a mag¬ 
nificent gift of foods to the legations. Have a letter 
written in my name stating that I am tortured with 
anxiety for their fate, and that my righteous indignation 
with the Boxers needs only an opportunity to be washed 
out in their blood. Write all I Would say if—if this 
were what I truly meant and believed. Blind sage, it 
is certain that I must flee?” 

Li was going out quickly, when she recalled him. 

“Send a necklace of pearls to the chief lady and tell 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


161 


her I recall with tears the happy day when we met, 
and pray to the all-viewing heaven for a return to those 
friendly joys.” 

He disappeared. The Empress Consort leaned over 
her and whispered something. She spoke again: 

“Disciple of the sage, again I ask you, what is the 
truth as to the jade dragon? Be it known to you that 
it was a part of the riches of the rich man Ho condemned 
to die by the illustrious Emperor Chia Ching, and it is 
included in certain lists presented to the throne. But 
when the authorities seized this treasure, the dragon with 
much else was gone, and from that day has not been 
seen. Now, if you will speak truth and point the way 
to the recovery of this treasure, enormous rewards shall 
be yours, riches, a bride of the most beautiful, high in 
favour, and a place at Court where your wisdom shall be 
richly rewarded daily. Honour, wealth, beauty—these 
are the rewards I promise.” 

I could see the glitter of the Empress Consort’s eyes. 
She had very much the temperament of her imperial aunt, 
but without the dignity and the implacable exterior to 
hide her thoughts when she would. Where the other 
was terrible she was waspish. She looked now as though 
she were about to sting! I knocked my head three times 
on the ground. 

“Celestial Empress, I have nothing to add to what I 
formerly had the honour to present before the throne. I 
was on a journey and in passing through the village of 
Kao-ping my foot struck this precious thing in the 
Woodpecker Lane. How precious it was I knew not. 
That is all I know.” 


162 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“How should such a thing come in a village lane?” 

“Celestial Empress, bands of brigands were roaming 
the country and more than one person found traces of 
their passing. I have no other suggestion to make.” 

Again the Empress Consort whispered. The other 
went on as if she had heard nothing. 

“If later any deceit were discovered, your perspicuity 
would know what to expect. Now rise and depart, hav¬ 
ing taken your reward.” 

Sie placed a little casket containing two pearls, a larger 
and a smaller in my hand. We edged out backward, 
kneeling, and the last sight I saw was the vast hall, 
heaped with shadows, the Empress’s white face in the 
gloom, with the figures of the Empress Consort and Sie 
rigid on either side of her chair. An impressive sight. 
One might take it for an omen of the destiny overtaking 
her dynasty—fading into the gloom. 

In the garden after our dinner I eagerly questioned my 
master and he told me what had happened. Seeing the 
danger, he had put forth power and had spoken to me 
in a language unknown both to himself and me, and in 
that language I had answered and he interpreted; and 
if it seemed incredible that in this abnormal state 
(which should be normal if we knew and grasped our 
powers) all languages should be as one, let me state that 
this very power is known to the investigators of psychic 
subjects, and that it has been demonstrated fully and 
openly in Japan of late years, by a man named Tome- 
kichi, with a certainty that cannot be doubted. For the 
truth of this statement I can refer to living witnesses. 
But why should it be wonderful? All knowledge is one 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


163 


at the source, and language but a man-invented division. 
The marvels of the subconscious self are perfectly con¬ 
secutive and even logical when one holds the key. 

My master told me that on hearing the Empress’s com¬ 
mand he closed his eyes for a moment, flung himself 
into communion with his inner self, demanded a language 
unknown to those present, and spoke with certainty; 
and, transmitting this power to me, with certainty I 
answered. I asked what language it was, and he replied 
that he believed it might be Malay, for he had once 
heard in Formosa Malayan traders speaking their lan¬ 
guage. But he could not tell for certain. I am sure 
this episode will be dismissed as mere fiction, which it 
is not; for, as I say, it can be substantiated. 

It is needless to say I do not know a word of Malay 
in the normal state. 

I asked what I had said and he told me what I have 
written already, adding that he suppressed certain inci¬ 
dents, such as the burial of a great part of her wealth 
in the palace gardens under the supervision of the Em¬ 
press Consort, and other details which even now I think 
it unwise to give. 

He then said: 

“Here, in the garden, we must now only communicate 
with the utmost caution and in full daylight. As w'e 
entered the hall I heard a sound behind the drum of a 
pillar and a breathing which convinced me that some 
person was hidden there in case we had spoken Hakka 
or any language likely to be known in China. Figure 
spies everywhere! Distrust the very air.” 

Then, approaching his lips to my ear, he breathed: 


164 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“That horoscope has saved the life of the Emperor 
Treat him as she may, she will guard his life jealously 
now that she knows it is bound up with the continuance 
of her own. And the knowledge given and withheld 
will ruin the Manchus.” 

I need say nothing of the next few days except that 
by a swift experiment on a chance suspicion I discovered 
that the kindly-faced attendant who had more or less 
superseded Fox-face understood Hakka. No matter. 
We had been too careful for him, and in fact it was of 
service, for as if slipping gradually into carelessness, I 
let things fall before him that should give the impression 
we desired in high quarters. 

This led to my concerting a scheme by which their in¬ 
terest With regard to the treasure might be led down a 
very different track. In other words, I drew a red her¬ 
ring across the trail, and very successfully. 

I took to speaking of Ho’s treasure when I knew the 
attendant was within earshot, a few words at first, later 
a little more, as if the matter weighed on my mind. f I 
might have taken a less roundabout course by simulating 
a “sight” when he was at hand, but my master would 
have no trifling with a matter so terribly real and sacred 
to him; and in truth I myself had such a respect now for 
these only dimly understood powers within us, that in no 
case would I have ventured on any tricking them. But I 
own it seemed justifiable to me to use a little mild decep¬ 
tion by means of the methods known to all men. When 
my plan was matured I breathed it to my master as we sat 
under the willows in the broiling heat of August. No- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


165 


thing but the water and cool green shadows made it en¬ 
durable there, and what it must have been in the legations 
I dared not think. 

After a touch of repulsion at the thought of any de¬ 
ceit, he agreed that my proposal was wise and might be 
forgiven in view of the facts. He told me that he thought 
in the voice of the attendant he had recognized a young 
man named Chu Fu, high in the favour and confidence of 
the Empress Consort. No doubt in placing him about us 
they had counted on my master’s blindness and my igno¬ 
rance. This confirmed me in my intention. And I set 
to work. 

That evening, when we returned to our rooms, we sat 
by the windows in the dusky coolness and I reverted to 
the jade dragon, speaking softly in Hakka. 

“Master,” I said, “is it your enlightened judgment that 
if anything further occurred to me about the imperial 
dragon my duty would be to communicate it to the Old 
Buddha?” 

“Disciple, who can doubt it? It might be a clue to 
what her Majesty desires. The duty of a subject is 
obedience to imperial commands.” 

“But if it were a thing uncertain?” 

“Seek to acquaint yourself with the truth, and lay it 
dutifully before the throne. The will is accepted for the 
deed with her Majesty.” 

“But I must needs leave the palace and travel to Tai- 
Yuan to make my inquiries.” 

“Alas, my disciple, the sight has declared that the 
throne itself will shortly be at Tai-Yuan. I counsel you 


166 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


then to wait a little, for this is certain, and if we are taken 
in her Majesty’s train, you can then make your inquiries. 
But of what nature are they?” 

“My master, I have met another person within the last 
year who recognized the jade dragon. For when I was 
passing through Tai-Yuan I stopped at an inn known as 
that of the Benevolent Blessings, and it so chanced that 
a traveller saw the precious thing about my neck, 
and he said: ‘Young man, how came you by that 
dragon?’ He was of distinguished appearance and one- 
eyed. Naturally I did not answer. Finally, after two 
days’ acquaintance I Warmed him with wine and in his 
cups he said plainly that this was a part of the lost treas¬ 
ure of Ho, and on this I asked him if it was known where 
it was hidden, and he answered thus: ‘Young man, I 
have myself seen a part of it, and it is lodged in a temple, 
but the name of that temple is a secret, and now that I 
remember I have told even as much as this to a stranger 
I am indignant at my own effeminacy. Question me no 
more or it will be the worse for you.’ And he rose up 
in great anger, and went away; and when I got up early 
in the morning he had taken his horse and was gone. I 
inquired if they knew him and they said they knew 
nothing of him, but that his name was given in the inn 
as Tai Lin.” 

“But why, disciple, did you not report this to the 
Motherly Countenance?” 

“Because, Venerable One, I feared she might believe I 
knew more, and endeavour to extract my knowledge by 
painful means. And also I thought that could I travel to 
Tai-Yuan I might perhaps light on the treasure and re- 




THE TREASURE OF HO 


167 


ceive the rewards promised by her Celestial Majesty.” 

My master questioned me, but I stuck to this obsti¬ 
nately, verifying it with many little details not worth giv¬ 
ing here. I told it all with an air of simplicity that I 
knew was highly effective, and I was certain it would 
reach the mark, for my master’s undeceivable perceptions 
distinctly overheard a listener in the next room. If so, it 
would serve my ends in more ways than the one, for if 
Sie was to be dragged at the Empress’s heels in the flight, 
I wanted to be there too. 

She came often in the evening with words from the 
Empress, and lingered with us or with me alone, watched 
no doubt by many peepholes from the palace, but able 
by the lake to speak with freedom after all precautions 
were taken. I cannot hope to convey the charm of that 
intercourse snatched in the very jaws of danger. Her 
quiet courage and steadfastness, her gaiety whenever 
the shadow of fear lifted for a moment, the sweet pli¬ 
ability of the Oriental woman mixed with the self-respect 
of the Western, seemed to me to combine every charm of 
East and West. I dare say that many men would not 
have felt it as I did. Be it remembered I had spent my 
life in the Orient. Until some years later my personal 
knowledge of Europe was limited to five years at school 
in England and nearly all my interests were Oriental. 
The women of my own race whom I met in Peking or 
at the ports had not struck either my fancy or my heart. 
Sie did both. She moved in an atmosphere of romance 
woven by my strange adventure in the Temple of the 
August Peace, and by these stranger days in the palace. 
It drew us together in deeper ways than I can tell here. 


168 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


No outward sign of affection was possible in that eye- 
swept place and with treachery lurking in every coign of 
advantage, but I knew my own heart, and I thought that 
I began to know hers. 

After consultation with my master I decided to pass 
on the precious story of the jade dragon at Tai-Yuan to 
Sie, with instructions to let it escape to the Empress. 
My reason, of course, was to protect Sie by letting the 
Empress suppose she was worming secrets out of me and 
was therefore useful, and also to make certain of further 
interviews. She undertook this office readily, for of late 
the Empress had shown a certain impatience that she 
had so little to report. Heard thus both from Sie and 
from the attendant, I knew she would attach importance 
to the story. She did, and nothing could exceed the 
attention that surrounded us, and Sie’s freedom to come 
and go. 

Once she procured me permission to leave the palace 
on errands for my master—a wonder unheard of. It 
was necessary, for a dreadful report was current that the 
Empress’s gifts and protestations had seduced the Allied 
chiefs into the belief that she meant them well, and it 
was said they would accept her new offer of having all 
the Europeans escorted by Chinese troops to Tientsin 
and handed over to the European troops and embarked 
there for the coast. We in the Palace knew that every 
man, woman, and child would be murdered if these fatal 
beliefs were accepted. But I got out with Sie’s help and 
though I was watched and spied upon with every step I 
took I got the word “Cawnpore” (and never was it more 


THE TREASURE OF HO 169 

applicable) sent to my friend in the legation, and it was 
useful. 

I asked Sie how she was questioned as to her progress 
with us. She said, with a faint but most lovely blush: 

“My cousin, the Empress trusts that you will be like 
wax in my hands—” 

She paused, and I ventured to say: 

“Sie, am I not wax?” and to rejoice in the little sparkle 
I saw dipping under the long black lashes. 

“But she thinks, my cousin, that I can make you speak 
against your will and things you should not!” 

“And would I not for you, Sie?” 

“Not for me, nor for any woman. What is anything 
worth beside honour? But here they do not know. The 
air of this place is poisoned, and foul things grow in it. 
How should they believe in courage and faith? There 
is not a man nor a woman here that you could not buy, 
and gold is the God.” 

“And you, Sie—why are you so different?” 

“I cannot tell. I have a bird in my bosom,” she said 
with touching poetry, “and it sings to me of things that 
I shall know some day—in other lives if not in this— 
faith, and truth and kindness. I would choose to be a 
part of those things when they come my way.” 

“You are a part of them now,” I said, “they are as 
natural to you as its colour to a flower.” 

She smiled a little. 

“At least I love them,” she said, and changed the sub¬ 
ject. She never cared for discussing herself. I think 
what she best liked was to forget the hateful palace and 


170 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


ask me about the wide free country outside. It is almost 
inconceivable how caged her life had been. Except for 
the Empress’s trips to the summer palace, beyond Pe¬ 
king and a few visits to the palaces of other royal ladies, 
she had never been outside the Forbidden City. And 
yet she was not ignorant. There was a library of Chi¬ 
nese books that she had access to and they included a 
few, a very few, translations made by the Jesuit fathers 
when they were in favour—translations of one or two of 
Scott’s novels, some histories and travels. It is marvel¬ 
lous on what scanty nourishment a strong, clear under¬ 
standing can grow, and Sie’s was all that and more. 
She hungered and thirsted for knowledge and freedom. 
Dare I say that after a while I believe she thirsted for 
them the more because I was ahead of her there? 
Ahead? I was ashamed to think how little my oppor¬ 
tunities had done for me compared with what her star¬ 
vation had done for her. 

Well—the long and short of it is that we became good 
friends and my heart clung to the only creature of my 
ow'n blood. The Empress was right. There was no¬ 
thing I would not have told her. The Empress was 
wrong. There was nothing in the wide world, not to 
mention the imperial treasury, that would have tempted 
her to betray me. 

I pass over the next fortnight, having indicated its 
outlines, to which I must only add that I spent the time 
in studying my master’s methods under his direction and 
acquired certain powers—far indeed below his, but useful, 
as shall be told hereafter. 

Will it be believed that, in spite of all the terror and 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


171 


danger, the Empress still had the Palace actors almost 
nightly to perform the plays in which her soul delighted? 
Still she had the water parties with music on the lake 
and as much appearance of gaiety as in the good old 
days when the world danced to her tune. And, on more 
than one occasion, saying that the guns made her head 
ache, she stopped the bombardment of the legations that 
she might enjoy herself in peace. An extraordinary and 
indomitable woman. I used to wonder if Queen Eliza¬ 
beth in her royal courage, caprice and extravagance was 
anything like her. 

And now it w'as August, and news came pouring in. 
The Allies were marching on Peking. The Old Buddha 
needed no “sight” to tell her the fearful truth, and we 
saw nothing of her, heard nothing except through Sie 
who came daily, and brought one day a frantic message 
to ask if we had any magic that would slaughter the 
foreign forces as if with thunder and lightning. This 
we disclaimed. She told us that the Empress had said 
she would commit suicide and force the Emperor to do 
the same rather than flee before them. It was certain 
at all events that whatever she did he would be compelled 
to do, for her jealousy and hatred raged fiercely at the 
possibility that the Allies might dethrone her and restore 
him to power. With his reforming instinct it would have 
been a blessed day for China if this had happened, but 
the time was past and her clutch on him too strong. He 
was broken in spirit. 


CHAPTER VIII 


I SHALL never forget the fourteenth of August as 
long as I live. 

We were in the garden, and I was reading a fa¬ 
mous Chinese book to my master and learning from his 
comments, when suddenly the guns of the force besieging 
the legations ceased. The silence was stupefying. They 
had now gone on so long, so incessantly, that when they 
stopped it seemed as if the world had come to an end in 
a whisper and then death. 

I leaped to my feet. Even his placidity was startled, 
and he felt about him with sightless eyes. 

“What is it—tell me, tell me, disciple?” 

I could tell nothing and there was no one to ask. 
Half an hour went by, and then, with no warning, broke 
out a tornado of far mightier guns than we had heard as 
yet. The air was tattered and rent with fearful sound. 
These were never the guns we knew so well—these fright¬ 
ful roarings of destruction! I knew then. The Allies 
were bombarding Peking. 

I told him, and he said with his own composure: 

“It has come. Put our small possessions together in 
the smallest compass, disciple. We go to-morrow.” 

I went in and did as I was bid, and Fox-face came in 
and found me at it and threw up his hands in amazement. 

“This it is to have supernatural wisdom! I was sent 
to bid you prepare!” he said. “One of the dukes has 
172 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


173 


just rushed into the Presence shouting, ‘Old Buddha, 
the foreign devils have come. Your Majesty must es¬ 
cape at once, or they will murder you.’ ” 

“Her Majesty’s sacred life is secure,” I replied. “This 
we know by our powers. When do we go?” 

“This insignificant one cannot tell!” he said. “May 
the curse of all malignant spirits light on these foreign 
devils who drive us into the wilderness!” 

Like the pampered menial he was, the soft-handed 
wretch feared the open and its freedom. There is no 
life in the world so sapping as the enervations of an 
Oriental palace sinking down into ruin through its own 
iniquities. 

We sat up till late that night expecting orders. It 
was midnight before they came—Sie, flitting like a bird 
through the perfumed dark. She stood with the window 
framing her and our light on her face, pale, her eyes 
glittering with excitement and—was it pleasure? 

“To-morrow we go! There has been a grand council, 
and it is decided. She has ordered two of the ministers 
to go with her and the Son of Heaven. The rest must 
follow as they can. Be in the courtyard at the Hour 
of the Tiger. (Three a. m.) 

“Do you go?” I said eagerly, for she was turning. 

“I attend the Motherly Countenance!” she said, and 
was gone. 

Shall I ever forget that morning with the faint dawn 
grey about the peaked and wide-swept roofs of the pal¬ 
ace? To see history made before one’s eyes, to see my 
own visions acted out in reality, to share in the haste and 
panic of the moment—what an experience! And all 


174 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


punctuated by the thundering guns which took no rest. 
Country carts were drawn up—common country carts 
such as one sees daily wending through the streets of 
Peking, springless—abominably uncomfortable. All the 
ladies of the palace had been summoned to the courtyard 
for three thirty a. m., but none were to accompany the 
Empress except only Sie, and she would certainly have 
been abandoned also but for the hold it was believed she 
had on me. 

No European man’s eye had ever seen the Palace ladies 
before and probably never will again. They stood in 
lines, numbers and numbers of them, white and terrified 
in the cold faint light. No wonder. They expected no¬ 
thing less from the foreign devils than rapine and blood¬ 
shed of the worst. A flock of frightened sheep they 
looked, but with a kind of splendour in their long em¬ 
broidered coats, and stiff Manchu headdresses, brilliant 
with pins and flowers and dangling ornaments. So eti¬ 
quette was sustained to the last. There were so many 
that no special face impressed itself on me. I kept des¬ 
cribing the scene very tersely to the blind man. I think 
there was a kind of sombre joy in his heart to be thus 
present at the beginning of the end of the Manchus. 

Presently the Empress came out attended by Sie. The 
Empress! I could not even think of Sie for considering 
the amazing turns of human fate. She was now a com¬ 
mon elderly Chinese peasant woman in the blue cloth one 
sees everywhere. Her hair was plastered about her face 
like a Dutch doll. She looked old, furious, shabby. The 
Emperor, half dazed, came behind her in a long black 


THE TREASURE OF HO 175 

gown. And then an amazing, a horrifying thing 
happened. 

A beautiful woman (my vision, my vision!) detached 
herself from the crowd of ladies, and came forward, mak¬ 
ing obeisance to the Empress. 

“Who is she?’ 5 whispered my blind master; and an 
official, tense with watching, whispered back: 

“The Pearl Consort, the Emperor’s secondary wife!” 

Now I knew. The only heart faithful to him in the 
Palace—the only human being he loved and trusted. 
As he spoke, the Empress Consort came hurriedly out 
and took her place at the Old Buddha’s shoulder. The 
contrast between the two wives—the one all beauty and 
dignity, the other—what I have described! 

Then kneeling, in a calm, firm voice the Pearl Consort 
addressed the Empress. We could all hear her words 
clearly: 

“Sacred Majesty! is it a time for the Son of Heaven 
to flee from his capital? Should the Ruler of the Great 
Inheritance flee like a woman before the face of the 
foreigner? Leave him here, I beseech you, while you 
seek safety in flight. Let him act kingly, that the for¬ 
eigners may respect us. Go yourself and seek safety, 
but the Emperor should stay.” 

There was a blank silence of horror. Even the Em¬ 
press seemed stunned at such an audacity. I saw a 
brief fire in the Emperor’s faded wearied eyes. He 
stepped forward. He opened his mouth to speak, he 
raised his hand. And then the storm broke. 

The Empress shouted aloud to Li Lien-ying and the 
other attendant: 


176 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“Throw this wretched slave down the well. Let her 
die this instant!” 

I stirred and caught my breath. The blind man tight¬ 
ened his hold on my robe. 

“You swore to be silent!” he said under his breath. 
The Emperor fell on his knees, raising his hands in 
prayer, trembling in every limb—a pitiable, sickening 
sight. Yet would any courage have saved her in the 
Empress’s then mood? None. Li Lien-ying and Fox- 
face moved forward and put heavy hands on the brave 
woman’s shoulders, and as they dragged her away, and 
the Emperor still besought for mercy, the Empress cried 
aloud in a voice that echoed round the place: 

“Let her die at once as a warning to all undutiful 
women who resemble those owls who, when fledged, pick 
out their mother’s eyes.” 

And they dragged her away and threw her down the 
well and cast great stones on her, and not a voice, not 
a hand, was raised in her defence except only the Em¬ 
peror’s. He turned aside and covered his face with his 
arm. 

“Get into your cart!” she ordered; “and hang up the 
screen. The Heir Apparent will ride on the shaft. Sie, 
follow me into mine. Blind man, get into another with 
your disciple. Li Lien-ying, you must ride and keep up 
as best you can.” 

Then, to the carters, composed as if stepping into her 
royal sedan: “Drive as hard as you can, and, if any 
foreign devil stops you, say we are poor country folks, 
very much afraid and fleeing to our homes.” 

The gate was open, the horses were whipped up and 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


177 


the whole tremendous scene faded into the past—the 
women, having prostrated themselves with the Empress 
Consort at their head, all standing stiff and straight as 
the carts rolled out. And so the last glimpse showed 
them as the gates shut to behind us. 

I am not ashamed to own that the tears were in my 
eyes, for I had never seen and never shall again a picture 
of such despairing courage as that brave, lovely, devoted 
woman’s. She was right—a thousand times right. If 
the Emperor had plucked up courage and asserted him¬ 
self then he might have saved not only her life but the 
dynasty. But no; it was too late, the cup of their in¬ 
iquities was filling to the brim. It would soon run over. 

In a whisper I told the blind man I should never for¬ 
give myself for my inaction. Better have died like a 
man than see such an iniquity done. The only thing that 
restrained me had been fear for Sie and for him. 

“Disciple, my life is of little moment,” he replied in¬ 
differently, “but in any case it was secure. I shall die 
on the day the Empress visits the Yellow Springs (dies) 
and that is some years away. But you would have 
slaughtered yourself and the young lady, who deserves 
a better fate. And remember this—it was gross insub¬ 
ordination for the Pearl Consort to address the Old Bud¬ 
dha in such a manner and in public. What should a 
woman do in such affairs? Though it would have been 
better the Empress had shown mercy, still it was a fault.” 

The Chinese point of view! I could say no more. 

We reached the summer palace at four p. m. and there 
the exodus paused long enough to provide tea for the 
Empress while she sent written instructions to the Em- 


178 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


press Consort to bury all her treasure in the courtyard of 
the Ning Shou palace, and therefore by the deadly well 
that had received the Pearl Consort. 

As to the Emperor—he seemed perfectly stupefied with 
grief and fear, almost beyond feeling, except that I no¬ 
ticed he shuddered violently from head to foot when 
the two attendants who had murdered the Pearl Consort 
approached him. 

We then resumed our flight. 

There is no object in my chronicling all the sordid 
miserable incidents until we reached Tai-Yuan, for I had 
no share in those days except being dragged along with 
the rest like a piece of lumber. I am thankful to say 
that after the first three days Sie had a mule litter, as 
had also the Empress. When they got out of the miser¬ 
able carts to make the change the Emperor said aloud: 
“We have to thank the Boxers for this.” And the Em¬ 
press sternly commanded silence. 

It was so exhausting, penned up in those miserable 
carts, jolted and flung about the shocking roads and 
tracks, that neither my master nor I had the smallest 
inclination to talk. And really there was nothing to say. 
The excitement had been so long and so sustained that 
now there seemed to be a kind of collapse and mere en¬ 
durance of the discomforts of the day, and the sleepless 
horrors of the filthy inns took all our thoughts. 

What astonished us more than anything, however, was 
the elastic courage of the Empress. Never in this world 
has there been a more wonderful woman in her way— 
East or West. Over sixty, driven out, ruined, as she 
thought, fleeing for her life, the Emperor might give way, 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


179 


but she never 1 I declare before heaven there were mo¬ 
ments when I thought she deserved to rule, when my 
sympathies would almost have gone over to her side but 
for Sie and the Pearl Consort! When we were crossing 
the hill pass of “The Flighting Geese,” she stopped the 
whole procession of us (a long one by now, for many 
ministers and courtiers had joined up from Peking), that 
she might admire the view. I can see her, with her head 
stuck out of the litter, staring about her with the live¬ 
liest interest! 

And then with unmistakable enjoyment: 

“It reminds me of the Jehol country.” 

She shouted to the listless Emperor to look out, too, 
and with the relish of a young woman in her wicked old 
eye, she said: 

“After all, it’s delightful to get away from Peking and 
see the world, isn’t it?” 

“Under happier circumstances it might be,” he an¬ 
swered with a sigh. She turned contemptuously away 
to take a bouquet of wild flowers somebody brought, and 
sat enjoying the view and sniffing at them. It was im¬ 
possible not to feel a kind of unwilling respect for her at 
times like this. I said as much to my master and he 
shook his head. 

“I could tell you deeds beside which what you have 
seen is as nothing, disciple,” he answered. “The evil¬ 
doer needs to be courageous since he affronts both heaven 
and earth.” 


CHAPTER IX 


FTER this fashion we reached the town of Tai- 



Yuan where we were accommodated in the Tem¬ 


ple of Fo by special order, and next day the 


divine condescension was manifested, for she sent for us. 
I was on the alert at once. In the present state of affairs 
and with ministers, courtiers, and all kinds of people 
coming and going, she must be hot on the scent of the 
treasure to spare a moment for us. 

Great jealousy was felt of our influence when that sum¬ 
mons reached us, and many an envious eye fell on me 
as I led my master toward the courtyard of the splendidly 
furnished yamen where the Old Buddha had at last found 
rest for the sole of her foot. The countryside had been 
swept for comforts, and many notables had made their 
court by sending their best. The place was swarming 
with them, each with his own ax to grind, and in the very 
wind was a murmur of intrigue. I passed the watchful 
groups with an air of haughty abstraction, for in China, 
as all over the Orient, it pays to assert oneself. As for 
my master, he had no part to play. Since he honestly 
did not care a snap of the fingers for any one of them, or 
for the Empress herself into the bargain, his gait was the 
perfection of serene superiority. 

Li Lien-ying was waiting for us, and I shuddered as 
he drew near. Since the affair of the Pearl Consort I 
preferred his room to his company with an emphasis that 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


181 


I cannot express. I could not look at his large supple 
hands without imagining—but no matter. He was part 
of the game I was playing and it was necessary to use 
him. 

“Honoured persons, you are to have the felicity of see¬ 
ing the Old Buddha.” 

“Is her sacred Majesty in the enjoyment of good 
health and spirits?” 

“The Benevolent Countenance is uplifted with joy at 
the magnificence of her reception here. She is serene as 
a summer’s day.” 

He turned and ushered us through a hall splendidly 
decked with gold and silver vessels for her use, into a 
large inner room, where she sat alone with Sie, the Em¬ 
press Consort being still in Peking. 

She had resumed her own dress though without the 
magnificent adjuncts of Peking, and I really thought the 
trip had freshened her up—which was not surprising, 
as a contrast to the cloistered sloth of Peking. We 
crawled in as usual and were almost affectionately greeted. 
Truly it was a summer countenance that shone upon 
us! 

“My faithful servants, my heart has been overcharged 
in thinking of the discomforts and misfortunes which 
have attended your faithful following of our sorrows. 
Do not doubt that this will be remembered in every way 
to your advantage. The imperial memory is long.” 

We were as humble as the occasion demanded and she 
went on. 

“We are now at Tai-Yuan and shall remain here for 
some days—possibly longer. Disciple Yuan, a rumour 


182 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


has reached us that in this very town was once a person 
who recognized the jade dragon.” 

I executed a carefully prepared start of terror. I had 
guessed this would be forthcoming. Her Majesty hast¬ 
ened to reassure me. 

“Fear not, young man. Let truth be your guide. It 
is not well to play with the mighty, but truth invariably 
meets with approval. It appears an attendant of the 
Palace overheard some remark you let fall to this effect, 
but he only caught a few words and may be wholly mis¬ 
taken. Still, be candid. It is the better way.” 

So, as she thought, she saved Sie’s reputation and kept 
her still a useful spy. I fell on my face before her chair, 
and began a most effective trembling and plea for pardon. 

The Benevolent Countenance beamed. 

“Young man, we who see into all hearts know it is 
very natural that modesty and alarm should have caused 
your words to stumble. But speak out now. Make us 
the judge of this circumstance.” 

Thus urged, on my knees, and with eyes fixed on the 
ground, I repeated my story with the addition that the 
one-eyed man had said it was prophesied that the dis¬ 
coverer of the lost treasure would be a member of the 
ruling family. I knew that would interest and alarm 
the old lady who disliked most of the imperial family as 
cordially as they feared her. I then was silent, awaiting 
her pleasure. She reflected a long time. At last: 

“You will have a list made of all temples in the Shansi 
district and make every possible inquiry. Report every 
smallest detail, and now let your master fling you into the 


THE TREASURE OF HO 183 

sleep so that if there truly be anything to see we shall 
see it.” 

Then, suddenly collecting herself: “No, it was to be 
found by an Imperial Person. Why should I desire that 
any eye but my own should see this matter? Put me 
now here—this instant—into the sleep that with my own 
eyes I may see!” 

The start I made then was entirely unrehearsed. 
Not in my wildest dreams had it occurred to me that 
things might take this turn. For a moment it bewil¬ 
dered me, and then I felt it was impossible. What might 
not happen? If I hypnotized her she might see the 
Tiger’s Den through my eyes. She might see other 
things on which our very lives depended. It might take 
any turn. I looked at the blind man and saw that his 
face was set and his very hands shaking. Revolutionary 
as he was, almost superhumanly gifted, still remained the 
very root of the Chinese nature—a reverence for the 
function of the Throne in spite of the unworthiness of its 
occupant. For the moment I was left to my own devices 
and something very near panic might have seized me but 
for Sie’s calm presence behind the chair. She relied on 
me entirely. How could I fail? 

“Sacred Majesty, if it were one of ‘the stupid people’ 
(the masses), how then could I object? But when it 
concerns the Divine person—the Ruler of the Jewelled 
Inheritance, my heart trembles within me and I become 
as a sick man near his end. How is it possible that I 
should dare to send the Sovereign of the world to meet 
the Spirits? How is it even possible that I should 


184 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


succeed, for who can dominate the Heavenly Intelligence? 
Permit this slave to attempt the sleep himself.” I 
prostrated myself before her. She angrily bade me rise. 

“To argue with the great is insolent and moreover 
extremely unwise. Also it wastes time which should 
be respected. Obey my commands.” 

The blind man interrupted: 

“The Tutelary Deities avert their faces from such a 
thought. Should the occupant of the* Dragon Throne 
be subjected to the will of a humble person? And 
moreover there are risks. Who can tell—” 

She interrupted him, laughing harshly: 

“My life has been all risks. Shall I shrink from 
them now? This is a matter of consequence. Sie, 
command Li Lien-ying to guard the outer door that none 
may enter. Stand yourself by the inner, holding it ajar, 
and if you become alarmed by anything, call loudly for 
Li. Blind man, I hold you responsible for my life. 
Now, what should I do? No—say no more. Direct 
me.” 

She must be keen indeed on finding the treasure if it 
made her defiant of her ingrained superstition. There 
was that in her face and tone that took the heart out of 
argument. Nevertheless, my master tried once more. 

“Your Majesty, knowing the dangers, I disclaim all 
responsibility. Let this lady bear witness that what is 
done is by your Majesty’s order, and that with my 
disciple I protested.” 

“You disclaim responsibility. I accept it. Waste no 
more time. I grow angry.” 

She looked it. No more could be said. With my 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


185 


temples beating to a wild measure, I took the crystal 
from my master and directed her to lean back in the 
imperial chair, reclining her head and composing he* 
august mind. She did so obediently, and the ill-timed 
thought occurred to me that I was like an unskilled 
dentist hovering round a first patient’s chair. Would 
it be kill or cure? Anyhow, I was in for it. 

Sie at the door, with face turned from me, the blind 
man kneeling in palpable alarm, only the Empress per¬ 
fectly fearless, I took up the crystal and she fixed her 
gaze resolutely on it, haughtily obedient. I remember 
thinking that of all the instances I had seen of her cour¬ 
age this was the greatest, recalling her intense fear of the 
unseen, her unwavering belief in any manifestation of it, 
however crude. Very unfit myself for the business, 
I repeated the hypnotist’s formula, wavering at first, 
then strongly, loudly, all but hopelessly. At first her 
eyes outstared the crystal, then, at last, they began to fix 
and glaze. Her head fell back. She was off—I had 
got her! The sleep came, and I regained my self- 
possession in a flash as I stepped forward and bent over 
her. My master covered his face with his sleeve. The 
deceit, the indignity, shook him to his very soul. Ah, 
had I taken his warning and ceased even then! 

“You see a temple in the hills. A very lonely place, 
a long way from here. There is no road, only a rough 
stony track, a few pine trees stand about it. The priest 
is a man blind in one eye. Beside it stands a monument 
to a lama who died on his way from Tibet, to pay his 
respects to the Sacred Throne in Peking. You see 
within the temple now. There is a white image to the 


186 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


Amitabha Buddha, and other images sit about it. You 
see beneath the floor for nothing can stop the sight of 
the Spirits. There is a deep underground chamber 
with boxes and bales all about it. They bear the name 
of Ho Shen. Read it. See! The priest comes down 
with a light. You see him. He opens a box—there is 
a tinkling inside. Hear it! He holds the light. Stoop 
over him. See the dark green glitter of emeralds, the 
flashing of diamonds, hear the dry rustle of pearls. 
Riches inestimable. You see images of gold, each more 
than two feet in height. You see great bowls of topaz, 
Gold vessels heaped one on the other. It is a cave of 
treasures. You see the great pearl known as the Good 
Omen. Plates of jewel jade three feet across. Splen¬ 
dours, riches, wealth even for the Sacred Throne to be 
amazed at. Note that the pine trees stand about the 
temple and high rocks tower above it. It is a place 
where the wild beasts cry and slouch at night, a safe 
lonely place for the concealment of the greatest treasure 
in the world.” 

I need not tell all I said. \ repeated, I impressed, I 
forced it in upon the awake self that was hidden under 
the sleeping self whom almost a third part of the world 
knew and feared. I seized my chance and was strong 
with the strength I never knew I possessed. The strang¬ 
est scene, for still my master hid his face, and Sie at 
the door never looked my way. 

Twice the Empress moved her hands as if clutching 
and grasping. Twice she said in a strangled whisper: 
“I see; I see—” and that was all. I kept her in the 
hypnotic state for more than ten minutes, as I guess, 


THE TREASURE OF HO 187 

then slowly withdrew her from the inward to the outward 
again. 

“You are returning. You have seen. Remember 
what you have seen. Forget nothing you have seen. 
Now return, and when you awake send to search for the 
treasure. Return.” 

Again I need not tell all the steps which I had learned 
from my master to recall the inward from its quest. 
While she still lay in a kind of coma I said to my master: 
“The Thousand Wise Men could not have told her more” 
—half laughing at my own success; for it seemed to me 
a triumph beyond triumphs that I should have sub¬ 
jugated such a spirit to my will. At my bidding she 
returned obediently: slowly the waking thrills ran up her 
hands, twitched the muscles of the mouth, unclosed the 
lids, lit the dead eyes, and in a moment more she was 
staring fixedly at me as I knelt. Silence. Presently in 
a drowsy voice she said. “A most excellent sleep. No 
pain. No hurt. I saw.” 

Silence again. Then I ventured: 

“What did your Majesty see?” 

“The lost treasure of Ho Shen. Trees of coral. 
Boxes of emeralds and pearls. Much more.” 

“Did your Majesty see where it can be found?” 

“That is my own business,” she retorted, wide awake 
instantly. “You have done your part well; there is no 
more for you to do at present. Sie, give them the re¬ 
ward appointed. Stay. Sie—did I speak?” 

“Twice, Motherly Benevolence, but at this distance I 
could not hear the words. Very low were they and 
brief.” 


188 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“Illumined sage, write down the words I said. Write 
them in silence and let no one see.” 

My master took the ink brush Sie gave him and wrote 
two characters. Except that the characters were larger 
and more straggling than ordinary, no one reading but 
must have thought he saw. She looked at them, then 
straight at me. “What did I say?” sure now that there 
could be no collusion. 

I answered instantly. 

“Your sacred Majesty said: T see, I see.’ No 
more.” 

She smiled, pleased. Then aloud: “I saw what I 
needed to see and no more. Like the famous story of 
the thief of the Chi State, what I saw was the gold and 
nothing but the gold.” 

She shook her sleeve in token of dismissal, and we 
crawled backward to the door. My master was still pale 
and troubled. All China is run on precedents. If a 
thing has never happened before, that is the best of 
reasons why it must never happen, and certainly in all 
the centuries of court witchcraft no one had ever heard 
of the hypnotizing of an imperial ruler. And there was 
the deceit. 

Once outside, he said: 

“My disciple, lead me to some quiet place beneath the 
trees where I may speak.” 

I did so. The whole town was humming and buzzing 
with excitements and comings and goings, and donkeys, 
mules and horses crowding the narrow cobbled streets. 
I found a little nook where all was quiet and safe. Then 
he spoke, very low, and still with the fear on him. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


189 


“I have not been satisfied, disciple. My spirit is sore 
within me. The ruin of this dynasty I crave, for in it 
lies the only hope of China. It is as needful as the 
amputation of a gangrened foot. But even this woman 
I would not thus mislead or deceive, for to use the in¬ 
fluence as a means of deception— Oh, disciple, that was 
ill done and a curse follows. You will see! The Law is 
not mocked. The reward is sure.” 

“Master, do not say this. If the Old Buddha found 
this treasure it would be spent on evil pleasures and 
wasted. If it comes to the Lady Sie, she will do noble 
things with it for your country. You do not wish it in 
the hands of the Empress?” 

“No—a thousand times. Yet, evil cannot bring forth 
good.” 

“And furthermore, you know yourself I did but 
send her to sleep as any juggler can do. I did not 
use the higher methods of those who know. Is it not 
true?” 

“It is true. With the higher methods the Empress 
would see nothing. I warned her. Yet—” 

“True. Leave this to me, my master; you soar so 
high above the earth that you do not know what needs be 
done with its evil influences. I swear before you that 
for or with the Empress I will never use the great secret. 
How should I? She is not fitted for it.” 

“True. She is not even in the darkness that precedes 
enlightenment. But this reward she gave me? It can¬ 
not be touched or used.” 

I opened the small casket and looked at the pearls 
of price that lay within. 


190 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“You are right, master. This we cannot take. I will 
throw it into the wood.” 

“For a bad man or woman to pick up? No, disciple. 
I know a poor widow in Peking whose husband the Em¬ 
press slaughtered. She has a son to educate. This 
will do it. I will send the money to her.” 

And so it was done. We took infinite pains that eve¬ 
ning to barter them with a rich man at Tai-Yuan who 
was fishing in the troubled waters of the Court, and my 
master sent the money by a sure hand to Peking. And 
he instructed me still more deeply in his secrets that 
my foot might slip no more. But his peace of mind was 
gone for a time. 

For days Sie was not visible, but I was not anxious 
about her, for I knew the Empress would consider that 
she had rendered an inestimable service in that her in¬ 
formation had led up to this vision. 

The Court now removed to Hsian-fu in Shensi, on the 
report that the Allies were sending an expedition after 
them, and we followed by order. Things were in a more 
settled condition there, and the Empress kept a liberal 
table and enjoyed herself to the full with birds’-nest 
soup, sharks’ fins and all the delicacies she loved. As 
for the Emperor, he never really held up his head after 
Pearl Consort’s cruel death. I was told that he lived on 
hermit’s fare, and turned with sickening revulsion from 
the heartless pleasures of the Empress. The fate of the 
Empire weighed heavy on him. He knew well that if his 
own schemes of reform had been followed up things 
would never have come to this pass. It was indeed a 
tragic spectacle. The woman who dominated him had 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


191 


all the force of character, he all the insight to better 
things, but he had no strength to impose his will, she 
no will for anything but power and riches. The better 
in the grip of the worse! I never saw the unhappy 
Emperor Kuang Hsu close at hand but once, but that 
impressed me deeply. 

I was standing with my master in the courtyard of the 
yamen at Hsian, waiting, for we were told the Empress 
might need us. It was almost empty, for word had 
gone about that she would give no audiences that night. 
Only a few attendants were breathing the chilly night 
air, unlit by any moon. Presently a man came out and 
stood in the doorway looking up at the stars. We were 
in the shadows and he did not see us, but we could see 
him dimly in a weak light that streamed from some lamp 
inside. 

There broke from his breast a deep, deep sigh, a 
heart-breaking sigh, as he looked up, and then I knew 
it was the Emperor, robed in black, overwhelmed with 
sorrow dark as the night. 

At last he spoke to himself in a kind of sobbing 
whisper: 

“O for rest! Birth is not a beginning. Death is not 
an end. The Wheel turns and turns and will not cease.” 

In silence my master prostrated himself and I also. 
The sound reached his Majesty, and he turned sorrow¬ 
ful eyes upon us. 

“Who are you?” as we rose to our knees. Then 
coldly: “The wizards of the Empress? Leave this 
place until she summons you.” 

And as we rose to obey he said, relenting: “Would 


192 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


that you, or any, had such wisdom as might make life 
endurable and death a hope.” 

“Son of Heaven, life is joy, and death is more life,” 
said my master with the sincerity that no man can mis¬ 
take. The Emperor moved forward a step. I saw his 
face, a dim whiteness. 

“You an old man, poor and blind, say this? What is 
your reason?” 

“Son of Heaven, I have seen through the illusion to the 
reality—and it is ascent and joy.” 

“And the end?” His voice was a sob. My master 
paused, and the Son of Heaven repeated: 

“And the end?” 

“Joy shining and calm as the sun reflected in the sea.” 

A long silence. The Emperor resumed: “If you have 
the true sight—what is the end of my dynasty?” 

“Ruin!” 

“I knew it. You are a true seer. And the Empire?” 

“Ruin, my Lord and Emperor. And beyond it a 
mighty future for the people.” 

“You are a true seer. The Emperor passes. The 
people cannot die, and for myself—who am a Lord of 
dust and Emperor of dreams?” 

“The prison door opened, the feet unshackled, a new 
life and a great one.” 

“Rest is my desire—rest only.” 

“Son of Heaven, what you could, you did. He who is 
faithful in little is rewarded by greater tasks. You will 
return in the revolving of the Wheel and lead this people 
greatly.” 

A dead silence. The Emperor stretched out his hand 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


193 


in the dark and laid it on my master’s. He turned, and 
reentered, cold autumn in his heart, autumn in the world 
outside. The falling leaves were dead hopes. We were 
alone. We went quietly to the gate and back to the 
temple where we lodged, as at Tai-Yuan. My master 
opened his hand and wordlessly showed me a little almost 
worthless ring of inferior jade. He touched it to his 
brow and lips, and hid it in his bosom. I could not have 
spoken. Something in my throat choked me. The Em¬ 
press did not send for us that night. 


CHAPTER X 


L ATER she did, but only for a short interview to 
give orders. They were short but not sweet. I 
was banished from the Court. Not in the least 
because I had fallen from favour, she was careful to 
explain, but simply because my master could do all that 
was necessary, and she was anxious to avoid expense and 
the crowding of people about the retreating Court. Also, 
she needed my services elsewhere. I should be furnished 
with a sum of money and passes, and she could rely on 
my fidelity to report if any news should reach me of the 
treasure of Ho. If that were to happen there would be 
enormous rewards awaiting me, and a bride high in im¬ 
perial favour. Here she cast a glance at Sie who stood 
as usual with down-dropped eyes beside her. I was at 
liberty to leave that afternoon—the twenty-fourth of 
September. Interpreted, I knew this meant several 
things. She wished to be free from the only person 
whom she might now suspect of power to acquire knowl¬ 
edge concerning the treasure. But he must not be 
killed, for this knowledge might lead him to discoveries 
which Sie could gain for her. In a word, she wanted to 
pursue the quest quietly on her own, and at the same 
time to profit by any discoveries I might make on mine. 
No doubt, also, she believed that by retaining my master 
she could keep a searchlight of the “sight” on my pro¬ 
ceedings. In fact, the game was now in her own hands. 
194 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


195 


She was amazingly well and in high spirits that morn¬ 
ing. No one seeing her in her becoming Manchu head¬ 
dress of black, with gorgeous jewelled pins and flowers, 
would have given her a year more than forty-five. Like 
all women of wit and spirit, she was physically sensi¬ 
tive to outside influences, and the fact that the Empress 
Consort had arrived from Peking with the news that the 
Allies had not looted her treasure or discovered its where¬ 
abouts, refreshed her with gay youthfulness. Of course 
I kowtowed and protested obediently, but my heart was 
heavy. To leave Sie—heaven only knowing when we 
should meet again—to leave my master, to lose all the 
threads of the intrigues I was weaving into coherence— 
well, it was a blow and no mistake. I respectfully in¬ 
quired where the Empress wished me to begin my in¬ 
quiries, wondering if this was the first stroke of the 
punishment my master foresaw. 

She had no orders to give on that point. I was to do 
what I thought best, always bearing in mind the vast 
rewards that awaited success. Also, if I acquired any 
knowledge of the movements of the foreign devils on my 
travels that was to be reported. I should be notified 
when I might return to Court. 

I asked if she could furnish me with any clues from 
her vision, and she briefly repeated the description 
of the temple which I had impressed on her in the 
hypnotic sleep. I asked if she had seen any treasure 
with it. 

Yes, certainly; she had seen it and had realized that 
all she most desired was to be found in that temple with 
its one-eyed priest. If I heard of such a one I was to do 


196 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


no further investigation on my own, but to report 
instantly to her. 

We departed with an almost merry farewell from the 
Empress, so pleased was she with herself and the world 
in general. Every one about her knew those fits of 
gay good-humour. A sunny morning, however, on the 
Benevolent Countenance did not always insure a fair 
evening. 

We went off to the quiet spot where we had talked 
before, and I was very little prepared for the emotion 
my master showed in parting from me. 

“Disciple, my son/’ he said, “very grateful have your 
kindnesses been to my heart, and how to let you go I 
know not. The thought of a stranger in your place is 
oppressive to me. I had thought to pass on the whole 
slender store of my knowledge to you, that in you it 
might ripen into wisdom. If this is not to be, yet re¬ 
member, I beseech you, the little you have learned. 
And dare this humble person ask that you remember 
him also with condescension?” 

“With affection warm and true,” I said, clasping his 
thin hand, and meaning every word of it. “It is I who 
entreat your gracious remembrance. And I beseech you 
to protect the Lady Sie and to encourage her with your 
wisdom and goodness. Will it be in any way possible 
that you could communicate with this unworthy one 
through means not used by the ignorant?” 

For he had told me strange tales of how those per¬ 
fected in wisdom could communicate across far lands 
and seas. 

“My son, I cannot tell. I can send the message in- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


197 


deed, for this I have done more than once. But whether 
you can receive— Nevertheless, do this: Every night 
at ten o’clock as your people reckon, sit for a while 
alone. Compose your mind. Unite your outer with 
your inner self, closing your eyes to the objects of 
sense about you, and it may be that in a moment of need 
we may ride on the wind and bridge the air. But I 
fear much that the deceit you practised is against us.” 

I understood the allusion to the sage Lieh Tzu of 
whom it was said that he could ride the wind and com¬ 
mand it, and joyfully agreed. Every day my faith in 
my master increased. His humility promised always 
less than he could perform. 

We were slowly returning to our abode when a man 
ran up to us in hot haste. 

“Great and honoured Blind Man of Hupei, return 
swiftly. High honour is done you. A Court sedan chair 
stops at your dwelling enclosing a Pearl of Beauty who 
will not alight until she knows you are within. So I, 
your slave, a worm of the dust, have hastened to inform 
you.” 

“Distinguished person, accept my gratitude,” and we 
hurried our steps, little crowds commenting as they al¬ 
ways did on the Sage of Hupei and his favoured disciple. 
No doubt the fact that we were in the train of the Em¬ 
press accounted for much, but the blind man’s reputa¬ 
tion was almost as wide as the Empire itself. 

It was of course Sie, come publicly by the Empress’s 
order and bringing the money and passes for my journey. 

She entered with pomp and dignity befitting a Court 
lady of the Empress, and observed a magnificent air of 


198 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


ceremony and mingled humility and condescension, the 
Court manners in perfection. Briefly she spoke and 
gave her precious packet and with it another and beauti¬ 
ful pearl set in a large thumb ring, and then, bowing, 
prepared to depart. I knew her precaution was abso¬ 
lutely necessary. Every wall there would have ears, 
but she had made her preparations and I mine, and as 
she bowed with crossed hands I saw in one the gleam 
of paper, and as she glided by she slipped it, I can 
scarcely tell how, into mine. 

Aloud I said only: “Lady of superior merit, I leave 
you happy in the protection of the Benevolent Empress 
and the wisdom of the Sage”—but I knew she under¬ 
stood the look I threw toward him and that a slender line 
of communication was established. We both attended 
her to the sedan chair and knelt till she was out of 
sight, a proceeding much less hurtful to my pride than 
the Court crawlings in which I had become an adept. 

When she was gone I read her letter. It consisted of 
only three words, for writing was a deadly danger. 

“Truth. Affection. Fidelity.” But I knew the wis¬ 
dom of her precaution and it was sufficient. 

And I wrote an answer which I entrusted to the blind 
man—also sufficient, though, like hers, it consisted of 
three words. She had used the character for “affection” 
which denotes kindred or family love—the expression a 
sister might use to a brother. I used the character 
for lover’s love—the love that the poets and romancers 
of China have celebrated in common with poets all the 
wide world over. And the three words I wrote were: 
“Love. Remembrance. Fidelity.” That was my first 





THE TREASURE OF HO 


199 


love letter; and really, if one comes to think of it, all 
that is necessary in any case, though a Western beauty 
might despise it in comparison with the two or three 
sheets in the rough-and-tumble familiarity of our people. 
Still, with the Western chances of a divorce or breech- 
of-promise case, it might have its uses. Distance is, 
however, perhaps one of the reasons why China is ex¬ 
empt from such scourges. Familiarity breeds contempt 
all the world over. 

My master took charge of it and promised to repeat 
the words if it were not possible to deliver the precious 
scrap of paper. He promised much more. I went away 
lighter in the heart for knowing that his strange powers 
would be as guardians about the girl I loved. 

Yes. Loved. I knew that now. It was a thing to 
be reckoned with in the future and therefore to be faced, 
though no one knew better than I the doubts, the dan¬ 
gers, very possibly the miserable end, included in that 
simple statement: “I love Sie.” 


CHAPTER XI 


I WILL touch lightly on the next fortnight. I made 
a bee line for Peking. I had no fear that I should 
be watched, for the Empress had plenty on her 
hands for the present, and for that matter had no reason 
to believe me otherwise than devoted to her service. 
Every night at ten o’clock I withdrew from whatever com¬ 
pany I might be in, to loneliness and silence. But no 
word came through. 

I found Peking in an indescribable state—the Allies 
in charge but much indiscriminate looting going on. 
Though all my sympathies were on their side, it was 
painful to see destroyed ancient monuments of inestim¬ 
able value and interest to the future of the world, but 
the whole thing was so natural after what had come and 
gone that it was impossible to blame even if one must 
regret. 

There was a strong movement afoot to get the Court 
back to Peking. It was felt by the Allies that the Em¬ 
press irresponsibly roving about China was a greater 
danger than under the watch of the Allies in Peking. 
Asked secretly for my opinion as to whether she would 
return, I could only say that I knew such advisers as Li 
Hung Chang and Jung Li were all for a policy of con¬ 
ciliation and return and had great weight with her, but 
that with her temperament one gust of rage, like the 
typhoon, might always sweep her from her moorings and 




THE TREASURE OF HO 


201 


bring ruin even more swiftly on her dynasty. I could 
not mention the horoscope. 

But my work was not in Peking. I went straight for¬ 
ward to the Temple of the August Peace. Not now as a 
Hakka man, but simply as a Chinese gentleman of edu¬ 
cation. That would be much more difficult to trace if 
ever her Majesty took a fancy to keep an eye on me. 

At the beginning of my strange story I have described 
the approach of the weird temple, and it need not be re¬ 
peated. But as I went along the rough tracks now un¬ 
graced by flowers, for it was October, memory held my 
hand and walked with me every step of the way. Then 
I was an European with the boy Yin to anticipate all 
my wants; now I was a Chinese with only the simple 
wants of my people, bound on a pilgrimage to the temple 
of the Buddha who abides in Eternal Peace. I had not 
yet made up my mind as to whether I would reveal my 
identity to the priest. 

I certainly need not discover it, dressed as I was now 
and possessing the ease of talk and manner acquired in 
the Palace. What I said must depend upon circum¬ 
stances, for mine was emphatically a business where I 
must feel my way step by step. 

I own that when, in the shortening day, I came in sight 
of the great grove of silver pines my feeling was almost 
one of fear. Those strange pillars of beaten silver up¬ 
holding their black clouds of foliage overshadowed my 
soul with a sense of doom. We must indeed be part and 
parcel of nature, so quickly do we react to her moods, 
and here they were awful. As before, the trees, with 
their secret to keep, watched and waited. If they had 





202 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


been ranked and dangerous human beings they could not 
have been more masked. They had seen, but would not 
tell. 

I brushed through the thick carpet of the fallen pine 
needles of centuries, and looking up saw above me the 
temple on its terraces. As I climbed them a chilly 
October evening breeze woke up with some mysterious 
message from nowhere, and from far below it brought 
a faint muffled roar of “The Flying Tiger’’ waterfall: 
then, shifting, shut it off as if it had never been. 

Dead silence, and the dusk creeping from its ambush 
among the pines. I stood on the first terrace and looked 
about me. In the two years which had passed since my 
visit the forest had advanced on the terrace, and little 
saplings climbed with knotted feet in the crevices of the 
stones. Weeds flourished in rank abundance among the 
belladonna lilies whose withered lamps were burning 
down close to the mold. Desolation and loneliness. I 
ascended the steps to the second terrace, thinking the 
priest might be at his prayers. Strange as it may seem, 
I dared not affront the silence by calling or shouting. 
The very sound of my own steps sent light thrills of a 
kind of horror through me. 

On the second terrace, no one. I looked into some of 
the ruined cells and found them as I left them except 
that the draperies of green vine, now brown with autumn, 
had made strong headway and waved their banners from 
all the walls and windows. The whole place seemed to 
be lapsing gently down to decay, quietly absorbed into 
nature. I fancy it would not take long for the greatest 
cities to do this. The legions of the grass and forests 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


203 


are innumerable, swift and pitiless. But it was ghastly 
in its beauty, for all that, a subtle insult to the lordship 
of man. We pass; they remain. 

I ascended the third terrace and the dusk was chilly 
at that height and from a darkening cloud came a splash 
of cold rain. I summoned my resolution and called: 

“Is the honourable priest of this august temple at 
hand? A traveller would present his respects and 
prayers.” 

Silence. I called again. And then far off in the dis¬ 
tance I heard a faint movement. It came from the 
great cavernous hall where the golden Buddha sat in 
colossal calm. I drew a little nearer to the vast black¬ 
ness and stood looking into the unlit dark within, faintly 
fragrant with incense. My heart beat fast. 

The sound increased and the priest came slowly out, 
supporting himself on a stick, and I started, for those 
two years had aged him almost out of recognition. The 
stubble on his ill-shaven head was white, the lines in his 
face like the caricature of a Japanese ivory, his walk 
feeble. But still he kept the cold remote kind of a look 
about him. A man unlikely to speak except at the right 
moment and under pressure—a lonely man, the human 
expression of a deserted place. 

He gave me the usual salutation, and then, leaning on 
his stick, waited my pleasure. 

“Venerable sir, I am come to visit the temple in pur¬ 
suance of a vow and to make my devotion before the 
Buddha of the August Peace.” 

“It is a worthy motion, distinguished person. May I 
ask if you have brought provisions with you? For I 


204 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


have little here and what I have is unworthy the atten¬ 
tion of such a highly-born person as your speech and 
dress lead me to suppose you.” 

“Venerable servitor of the Enlightened One, I have 
brought a few crusts, but what is good enough for your 
own exalted self must be far beyond my lowly deserts, 
and as I purpose a stay of some days, I beg in all humil¬ 
ity that an arrangement be accepted whereby I make 
an inadequate offering of money for food and 
accommodation.” 

This offer he coldly agreed to. It was clear from his 
manner that he wanted no one, but of course I knew the 
rules of the faith would prevent the rejection of any 
suppliant. 

He said with frigid courtesy that his evening meal was 
cooking in his room and that I was welcome to share it. 
As to next day—a peasant came once a week from the 
Village of the Hundred Lights and he would possibly con¬ 
sent to make a double journey if he were paid for his 
trouble. 

Then he led the way painfully to his room. It was 
exactly as I remembered it. The window filled with 
costly stone tracery, the walls rough as the interior of 
a cave, and completely draped by this time by the 
autumnal foliage of the wild vine. The door into the 
hall of worship stood wide open. I believe he passed 
most of his time there. 

We sat down to the rough table, and from a boiling 
pot he served out two portions of rice, to which he added 
a little platter of bean curd. That was all. I opened 


THE TREASURE OF HO 205 

my bag and produced some fruit and dried fish. He re¬ 
fused both, and we made our meal in silence. 

Afterward he spoke a little, and with astonishment I 
realized that he knew nothing of the fall of Peking, 
nothing of the flight of the Court. Public events went 
past the dark solitudes unseen, and when I tried to tell 
him a little of what had happened he cared about as 
much for it as one of the trees outside would have done 
if I had been at the trouble of announcing it. I changed 
my tone then. I spoke of the rapine and ruin of Peking, 
the wild and boiling upheaval of class and race, and 
after a time, and as if carelessly, I added: 

“Many strange things were to be observed among the 
foreign devils. They who had held apart from our 
people mixed with them now, some asking even for bread 
and shelter. They are a haughty race and this was 
disagreeable to them.” 

“I hope that according to the Rule of the Exalted One 
they receive pity,” he said indifferently. 

“In some cases, yes. Not otherwise. But in visit¬ 
ing the house of the noble Yang Lien, now communing 
with the spirits of his ancestors at the Yellow Springs, I 
met there an Englishman whom he augustly sheltered in 
company with the Blind Man of Hupei.” 

He looked up with instant interest. 

“The Blind Man of Hupei is a holy person gifted with 
extraordinary powers,” he said. “Had you the benefit 
of that inestimable sage’s acquaintance, if it be 
permissible to ask?” 

“Not only so, but he did this humble person the honour 


206 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


to impart such crumbs of his wisdom as my inadequate 
powers could receive.” 

“Of what nature?” 

“Spiritual teachings and a few of what the vulgar call 
marvels, but which are known to your wisdom to be but 
manifestations of a higher law.” 

“True.” A long pause, then with caution he added: 

“You did not in the upheaval you mentioned meet 
with an Englishman of barbarous name but compara¬ 
tively skilled in our ancient speech?” 

“I met several—these foreigners are comparatively 
skilled in tongues.” 

“This foreign person was of the family of one high in 
honour with the Emperor Chi’en Lung in bygone days. 
His name was Mallerdean.” 

“I have met him, Master of the Law. He was full of 
anxiety about some maiden he hoped to find. But the 
story was of little moment in the march of such great 
events.” 

“The story is nevertheless of moment,” he said with 
his cold reserve. “And if I who never leave this place, 
never communicate with the outer world, and expect ere 
long to have passed from Illusion into the Peace, could 
send that foreign person a message I would do it.” 

I reflected hurriedly. 

“Venerable sir, I shall return to Peking. It is possible 
I may meet him, although the household of the noble 
Yang Lien is now scattered to the four points of the 
Empire. Am I worthy to bear your message?” 

“That cannot be doubted. The disciple of the Blind 
Man of Hupei is a person with whom kings must reckon. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


207 


The message is this. Last night I had a showing, for I 
know not what else to call it, and the time is at hand 
when matters will be made clear relating to the lady 
whom he sought, and the clue he seeks is here.” 

I caught my breath. 

“A strange message, Master of the Law. Dare this 
unworthy one ask what is a ‘showing’?” 

“That is a question the disciple of the blind man 
needs not to ask. It is indisputable knowledge given in 
sleep or a state which resembles sleep. Give him the 
message, however, and I think he will not linger. He 
knows my words are not thistledown wandering in a 
breeze.” 

He led the talk away, and presently bid me to devo¬ 
tion in the hall of worship. It was impressive beyond 
all words with the golden image soaring upward from 
our twinkle of feeble light into the massive darkness 
above. We knelt and offered incense and he repeated 
a part of what I may call “The Creed of Asia,” which I 
knew well from my master’s repetition. 

“Hail, Self-existent, who in wisdom seest the unreality 
of all beheld by the five senses. All the Illumined, de¬ 
pending on this wisdom, are without fear. All the 
Illumined receive the highest wisdom, for this Divine 
wisdom is a great and holy marvel, a magic without a 
peer. It delivers from all illusion, for it is Truth.” 

The voice went murmuring on, small and thin in the 
dark that closed in around our little light. But at that 
point I lost it, for my mind was awakened to truth. The 
Tiger that devoured the bones of my ancestor was the 
Tiger River. Of that there could be no doubt. And 





208 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“the secret den” was hard by. But yet it might be dif¬ 
ficult to find unaided, and impossible to know how to 
deal with the treasure if found. Could I in any way 
use the “holy magic” of the scripture he was reciting? 

No need to dissect my thoughts. My deeds are more 
to the point. We came out, left the hall to its vast and 
ancient solitude, and outside we delayed a moment. 

“I cannot ask you to spend the night in my room, for 
my nights are disturbed. There is a cell to the left— 
that second opening. Sleep there as best you can. It 
is a roof if no more.” 

The cell I had occupied formerly. I knew the trac¬ 
ery of the window, the broken walls. But I had no 
Yin to serve me, nor any of the comforts of travel. I 
unfolded a long coat cloak and sat upon it, facing the 
window. 

Presently the moon, passing solemnly over the monas¬ 
tery, palely illumined the court and looked in, throwing 
the tracery of the window black on the floor. I was 
tired and my brain excited by the emotions of the day. 
I put my travelling roll under the end of the cloak and 
prepared to lie down. Mechanically I wound my watch 
and looked at it. Ten o’clock. Then I remembered my 
master’s injunction. With the moon for my sole light, 
I lay down and tried to shut out all thought of my sur¬ 
roundings and to focus on my master. 

Difficult at first. Thoughts of Sie’s fair face, of her 
dark expressive eyes, the sweet swift smile that touched 
the corners of her lips and melted in a dimple, the shy 
words and yielding grace—yes, it was hard to get past 
Sie to the “one-pointed state of mind,” as it is technically 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


209 


called. I banished her several times, but she came 
hovering back, distractingly alluring, with dreams of 
that velvet-soft cheek laid against mine, the sun-warm 
lips ripe in a kiss. 

But the moon composed me. She stared so aloof and 
cold through the window. Gradually I let go—I fixed 
on my master. Across the leagues of empty dark I 
called voicelessly. 

“Speak, I hear.” Power crept into my thoughts and 
impregnated them with warm blood, as it were. They 
strengthened, shot out roots and branches, possessed me 
—I was but the soil they grew in. They flung out strong, 
swaying tendrils across the void, and, searching, found 
and clung. I saw him in a room I did not know, but not 
his outward self blinded and fettered. This was some 
truer self with eyes that challenged the leagues of dark. 
He looked, he lifted an urgent hand. Was I dreaming? 
No; no dream is so vibrant and living. 

“Reveal yourself,” came to my brain in a contact 
closer than any speech. “See the treasure in his 
keeping!” 

“Can I trust him?” I flung the question to the un¬ 
known place, and the answer came straight and word¬ 
less: “Trust.” 

Without a sound the vision passed and again the moon 
was staring coldly into the cell. For a moment I doubted 
whether my brain had been arguing with itself or with 
the indweller we call the subconscious self. But no, my 
master and I had touched hands. What are space and 
time to those who know? I should never be alone any 
more, for he could always reach and instruct me in what 




210 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


was clear to him in his great wisdom. So I then hoped. 

My way was plain to me next morning as I washed at 
the little running water among the withered belladonna 
lilies in the glorious dawn. A delicious freshness steamed 
from the heavy autumn dews. I dashed the last cold 
drops from my face and hair and looked up to see the 
priest climbing the steps from the second terrace. He 
stopped with a morning greeting. 

“May I speak with you a few minutes?” I said, hud¬ 
dling into my long coat, for there was a bite in the air 
on the heights. “I had a message last night that obliges 
me to request your condescension.” 

“A message?” 

He was surprised for a moment, then almost smiled. 

“I know. A message that rides the wind like a crane. 
From the Blind Man of Hupei.” 

“No other. And he commands me to declare myself 
to you.” His eyes still smiled. 

“That is hardly needful. Did I not know you were 
John Mallerdean when my eyes lit on you? But the 
Rites have declared that the host must accept the guest 
for what he seems, so I only tested you. Why did you 
not trust me when I spoke last night? The showing is 
true. The key to what you seek is here.” 

I was really confused. The part I had played seemed 
unworthy. 

“Because such strange things have happened and in 
such high quarters, that I scarcely dare to open my lips 
lest the very wind should carry my words to the ears of 
the mighty.” 

“The mighty? The Old Buddha?” I saw the instant 







THE TREASURE OF HO 


211 


anxiety in his face. That woman’s hand was heavy over 
all China. 

“Come to my room,” he said, “and eat your rice there, 
and then tell me your story. That the Blind Man of 
Hupei should judge me worthy of confidence is like 
honey to my heart.” 

I shared his morning rice, and afterward a stolid 
peasant came with further supplies. I noted with what 
fear he viewed the priest, with what eager haste he 
slipped away through the silver pines, looking behind 
him from the corners of his eyes like a frightened hare. 
The place with whatever treasure it might hold was safe 
enough from intrusion, I could see well. 

We sat on the terrace then with the risen sun balmy 
about us, the air fresh as at the birth of the world, and 
I told him my strange story from beginning to end with 
the same truth as I write it here. Not by a word did he 
interrupt. Every sentence I uttered he considered and 
docketed for reference, and when I had finished he spoke 
slowly. 

“Confidence is the mother of confidence. I will trust 
you, my honourable guest. The blind man is right. The 
dynasty of the Manchus is rotten ripe. It must needs 
make way for something better, and China work out her 
salvation even if the way be bloody and wet with tears. 
The Manchus conquered the Mings because the Mings 
from brave warriors had become base and degenerate 
with luxury, and now their conquerers, the Manchus, are 
no better. Their cup is full. What is not transitory, 
what is not illusion, save only the Law of the Blessed 
One, which in time and eternity shall not change!” 





212 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


The infinite melancholy in his tone touched me. This 
priest was a wise man, but how far below my master; for 
his soul was a captive in the prison of sorrow and loneli¬ 
ness, but my master’s dwelt always like a lark in blue 
air or in the happy fields of peace. 



But he went on: 


“Your desire being now to save this treasure of Ho 
from the Old Buddha, who will turn it only to base uses, 
is laudable, and I will gladly aid you. Does it commend 
itself to your wisdom that we should look through what 
is deposited in the Buddha loft?—search through it again 
with care for any indication that may lead us to the 
greater deposit? I have never seen it since you were 
here. I forgot it. But the jade dragon was a clue; may 
it not be that there is yet another?” 

I agreed eagerly, and in that long and timeless day, 
marked into divisions only by his prayers, we ascended 
the worm-eaten steps that led to the loft behind the great 
head of the Perfect One, and, taking the box thickly 
covered with dust and cobwebs between us, we carried 
it out into the sunlight on the terrace and took the con¬ 
tents out one by one. I have described them before, so 
I need not do so again. But I lifted the chain of moon¬ 
lit pearls between my fingers and for an instant saw them 
about a fair neck I knew. Above the jade chains carved 
into beauty of fruit and blossom I could see melting 
blue eyes. But the priest was speaking: 

“It is plain to be seen that these were gifts from the 
overflowing magnificence of the Emperor Ch’ien Lung 
and Ho Shen to your ancestor and the venerable soldier 






THE TREASURE OF HO 


213 


who was murdered, and surely their hope was to get them 
from here to the British ship off the coast. But now 
that I know your story it is also clear that your ancestor 
used them to save the treasure of Ho from the evil half- 
breed. He flung them to him as one throws meat to a 
cur. He was a true servant. The emeralds were cer¬ 
tainly his fee from the Emperor Ch’ien Lung for the cure 
of his disease.” 

“There is one thing that puzzles me,” I said. “How 
were he and Colonel Keith travelling with a safe-conduct 
from the Emperor who hated Ho? His Majesty Ch’ien 
Lung who had given it was dead?” 

“That is easily explained. When an Emperor gives 
the golden tablet it is binding on all succeeding Emperors 
unless it be formally rescinded and the possessor de¬ 
graded. No doubt that would have been done after the 
ruin of Ho. Until then it would carry them everywhere. 
But now, search with care. The Blind Man said: ‘See 
the treasure.’ ” 

We looked and could find nothing. Finally I took up 
the exquisite landscape I have mentioned before, a land¬ 
scape of rivers and tall mountain peaks and cloud 
wreaths blown about them, towering over a ravine where 
a wild river hurled itself to ruin far below. The priest 
looked at it with calm pleasure. 

“They were mighty artists in the days of the Tang,” 
he said. “That art, like all else, has gone down to 
effeminacy and ruin with the Manchu.” 

He was holding it unscrolled with loving care and 
pointing to the painter’s small signature on a square in 








214 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


the lower corner. I saw what I supposed to be a de¬ 
scription of it written on the back of the silk in a faint 
hand. 

“Interesting to have the writing of so remote a period 
on the picture. Perhaps the original owner’s,” I said. 

“No—no.” He adjusted his great horn spectacles. 
“That writing is comparatively modern. In your own 
land you could not mistake the writing of one century 
for another, honoured guest, nor do I. This refers to the 
subject of the picture, and the writing may be that of a 
hundred and fifty years ago, or somewhat later.” 

He read aloud: “The Tiger’s Den”—then dropped it 
and looked at me. 

I snatched the precious picture, a fortune in itself, and 
looked eagerly at the writing. 

“Was that written by a Chinese?” I cried. 

He examined it closely. 

“Impossible to be certain, but I think not. There is 
an indecision in one character—but who can tell?” 

“It is The Flying Tiger river, and that ravine is where 
the treasure is hidden,” I said, with entire conviction. 
“Does the blind man ever err? He told me to search 
the treasure in the temple last night. I have done it and 
here is the clue. This very day I follow up the river.” 

“You have not far to go. The ravine that picture 
resembles is about four li up the river from here. But 
it has never been called the Tiger’s Den so far as I know. 
Could your ancestor have given it this name that a clue 
might be preserved in the picture? Is the picture really 
one of this river or a chance resemblance he has used?” 

“Who can tell, and what does it matter? I am off 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


215 


now, this moment. Master of the Law, forgive my im¬ 
patience, I will return with speed.” 

“Would that I could go with you, but it is impossible. 
Study the picture with care for any marks before you go. 
Do not cross the river, follow this bank.” 

We both studied the picture almost microscopically, 
and I imagined I saw two lines of shading that made a 
faint cross at the base of a buttressed rock. Nothing 
else, and that more than doubtful; but in ten minutes I 
was on my way, swinging down the terraces, threading 
the ghostly pines, almost running down the worn track 
that led to the rocks and the river. I left the priest 
packing away the sumptuous contents of the box. 



CHAPTER XII 


I T was not long before I stood beside the royal roar 
of the waterfall, swollen by late rains, thundering 
down from the mountains like a lion fleeing from 
overpowering odds, yet roaring defiance as he leaped. A 
fairy rainbow hung above the awful plunge, and far above 
the sun-warm thickets of pines stood to watch the flight. 
A sight of beauty and wonder if I had had time for it. 
But my one thought was to climb the rocks that formed 
the stair of the waterfall, and go on and up beside the 
river. 

I climbed with hands and feet and stick—a good 
strenuous climb—and reached the top in an hour, looking 
back with triumph on the scarped stair. Above, on this 
higher level, the pines crowded right down to the river 
which here ran in a broken tossing sparkle among the 
rocks. I drank at a shallow pool, icy cold and pure, 
and wiped my streaming face and went on and up. 

Four li is roughly about a mile and a quarter, and on 
level ground nothing, but it was toughish work among 
the rocks. At last I came to a place where the river 
narrowed a little between two great rocks like a portal; 
hunching toward each other from either side, and, 
climbing those, hand over hand, I looked down into what 
lay beyond. I saw the rocks above me rising like a 
staircase to the mountains and below a black ravine 
hedged in and dwarfed by two great cliffs hemming in the 
216 





THE TREASURE OF HO 


217 


river. No mistaking the likeness to the picture, whether 
the artist had seen it or no. Down I scrambled for all 
I was worth, and in a quarter of an hour I was in the 
ravine—a place of startling beauty, wild and terrible, as 
if the foot of man had never desecrated it. Narrowed 

I to about twenty feet the river here was evidently very 
deep, the colour darkening from sparkling blue to a deep 
jewel green. Great boulders were strewn in and about 
it, the rocky sides beaten smooth and curved with ages 
of water wear, so that no man could have climbed along 
the sides out of the ravine. It would be necessary to 
scale the cliff above or return the way I had come. I 
stood considering. 

“The Tiger’s Den.” A good name. It had all the 
close confinement of a den. The cliffs kept off the wind, 
and the air was hot and dense. 

I walked about prying and peering and striking with 
my stick. 

Now, were I writing fiction, I should prolong the agony 
and spin the suspense as fine as a thread before I reached 
the climax, but this is a plain story simply told. In one 
corner was a small beach of big rounded pebbles, and a 
great boulder flung on it screening the cliff, and as I 
walked round the boulder I saw a little water-worn recess 
large enough to shelter a couple of men from a shower. 

It was a small scooped-out cave in the cliff, evidently 
the sculpture of the river, and overgrown at the back with 
brushwood, tall weeds, and one or two stunted trees suck¬ 
ing a bare living from the rocks and drifted earth. I 
walked in, stooping a little, for I am a tall man, and 
looked about me. Striking the rock with my stick, 






218 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


instantly there was a commotion amongst the weeds as if 
a snake or some small animal were making off, and again 
I struck with my stick, pushing aside the growth to have 
a look. Whatever it was it had vanished, but before me, 
well hidden by the green luxuriance, was a rift in the 
cave’s wall—an exaggerated burrow high enough for a 
man to crawl through. 

Now, there are snakes in China, the sort you give a 
wide berth to, and to crawl on all fours into a nest of 
them is not a picnic, but I did not delay. It was for Sie, 
and in a minute more I was down on my stomach, oaring 
my way in with flattened legs and arms where it lowered, 
a damp unpleasant business but a short one, for in less 
than five minutes I was in the treasure house. The 
boulder, as in the picture, was the true guide. 

Yes, it was done. The impossible was actual before 
me. Where now was the blind man’s prediction of mis¬ 
fortune? Who was right now? Who had shown his 
skill in the face of all difficulties? I triumphed. 

A faint light had followed me from the outer world, 
partly the reflection of the sun on the water, and after I 
had got my eyes used to the twilight I saw fairly well and 
had no occasion for my matches. 

A cave about twelve feet high and perhaps more in 
width and depth, rough and irregular, the walls of rifted 
rock with crevices and shelves. A biggish box of what 
looked like untanned leather was hoisted into one rift, 
stuck in sideways like a package in a grocer’s store. 
Packets, also sewn into leather, were hung and hoisted 
here and there high up as if there had been a fear that the 
river, if in flood, might sweep the cave, a very real dan- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


219 


ger, and I am inclined to think this foresight was jus¬ 
tified; the thing had happened and some wild spate had 
washed the boulder aside from the little cave it hid. 
Had it been in place I never should have found the 
opening. I stood upright in the cave and counted. Be¬ 
sides the big box there were thirty-nine packages, forty 
in all, and the box itself was no larger than two could 
carry between them—John Mallerdean and Colonel 
Keith, no doubt. A perfect hiding place. Too perfect. 
But for a succession of the most amazing events the 
wealth might have hidden there until the Day of Judg¬ 
ment unless some frantic overflow of the river had swept 
the whole thing away. 

Done! I mopped my wet forehead, took a few thorns 
out of my legs and sat down on the fine gravel of the 
floor to consider. There was no earthly prospect of mov¬ 
ing it without assistance, but it would be as well to make 
certain no one had been beforehand with me. 

I would rip open a package as a sample. 

I reached down the nearest from where it was secured 
by a stout leather thong and began on the leather stitches 
with my knife. 

Let it be remembered that the treasure of Ho ran into 
astronomical figures. That fact is soberly recorded in 
history, and he paid for it with his life. His palace, 
built on the model of the imperial palaces, was the glory 
of Peking. His magnificent garden there contained 
sixty-four glorious pavilions, some of them insolently 
roofed with the glittering imperial-yellow tiles, and every¬ 
thing was in proportion to this splendour. I knew that 
even the washbasins, spittoons and much humbler uten- 




22 0 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


sils in his house had been of solid gold. The screens 
were gold—but why go on with an inventory now almost 
unbelievable? It is soberly estimated by historians that 
his wealth was at least one hundred and forty millions 
sterling when all was computed. And be it remembered 
that in those days there was no banking system or invest¬ 
ments by which a man could put out his possessions in 
safety. No; all must be in visible gold, jewels, and ob¬ 
jects of art even more precious, and the only hope was to 
bury them in the ground as a dog hides his bones. The 
greater part had indeed been buried in his garden where 
he kept no less than four hundred and fifty night watch¬ 
men to protect it, exactly as the Old Buddha had now 
done with much of her own treasure in the Forbidden 
City. But Grand Secretary Ho had not had the luck of 
the old lady! 

Therefore, let no one think I exaggerate in what fol¬ 
lows, though I own I could scarcely believe my own 
senses. I cut the stitches on one side of the package, and 
instantly there poured out a stream of living, blinding 
colour, gems of the purest water, rubies, sapphires, em¬ 
eralds. They spilt about me in the gravel, themselves 
like gravel but for their glory, and I sat and stared at 
them. Sie’s! Sie’s! Unheard of, incredible riches! 

But how had Ho—how had any man become possessed 
of such things? I could guess from what the blind man 
had told me—who long ago, in his first days of Court 
favour, had heard the whole story in the Palace. Ho, 
who disdained no way of adding to his assets, had been 
the owner of no less than seventy-five pawnshops (pawn¬ 
shops are an immemorial and flourishing industry in 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


221 


China) and thirteen curio shops as well. Here, then, 
was a small part of the fruit of his well-directed efforts. 
The blind man had told me he was known to possess a 
gold table service of four thousand, two hundred and 
eighty-eight pieces, amongst other trifles. But again, 
why go on? I sat and stared at Sie’s riches. There was 
no man in the wide world, East or West, who would not 
be at her feet when the tenth part of this wild story was 
known. 

There I sat, devoured with perplexity. 

Good heavens, the charge that had fallen on John Mal- 
lerdean and now devolved on me! Well might he sac¬ 
rifice his own small treasure to save what lay before me. 

Were all the packages stuffed with the riches of Gol- 
conda? Anyhow, I dared open no more. I gathered up 
the gems in handfuls, piling them into my handkerchief, 
and then decanted them carefully back into the leather, 
securing the holes with what was uncut of the leather 
lacings and a short bit of string I had in my pocket, and 
hung it up again and crawled out. I drew the brushwood 
together, and then, turning, began my homeward way, 
wondering how many jewels had escaped me in the half 
light and were lying among the gravel. One takes these 
great events calmly when they come. I remember being 
much more elated over a bit of true celadon Korean pot¬ 
tery five years before than I was when I found the treas¬ 
ure of Ho. Queer it was, but true. 

About two o’clock I got back, and the priest was tell¬ 
ing his beads in the hall of worship. I looked in and 
did not disturb him, but sat alone on the terrace until 
he came out, blinking from the dark. Then I told him. 





222 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


He heard it with the indifference of a man who knows 
that these things matter to other people, but cannot for 
the life of him tell why. 

“I am glad, my honourable guest, that your superior 
intelligence is rewarded, but apart from that did not the 
Perfect One say: ‘The man who seeks riches is like a 
child that eats honey with a sharp-pointed knife. Be¬ 
fore he can taste the sweetness the knife wounds his 
tongue, and nothing remains to him but anguish’? 
And certainly if this were known to the Old Buddha your 
life would not be worth a day’s purchase.” 

No disputing that. I asked his counsel. 

“What counsel have I to offer in such a case? I, an 
unworthy priest of the Excellent One, who renounced 
such glittering toys as these that he might seek the 
world’s enlightenment! I cannot even see how you can 
remove it. What should I say but this: Seek the coun¬ 
sel of the Blind Man of Hupei, and what he says do? 
And now I beseech you compose your mind, and partake 
of food, and remember that the Transitory is worthless, 
and only the Eternal abides.” 

True and most true, but my thoughts would wander 
for all that to the splendour of colour and worth in the 
cold custody of the river, and I longed to be with the 
blind man that I might refer the whole matter to his calm 
wisdom. Though still I felt I had scored. 

There was no aerial message from him that night, and 
I resolved to depart next day on the second branch of 
my quest. But how and where? I put that before the 
priest, entreating enlightenment, for I had long suspected 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


223 


that he who could induce my first vision in the Temple 
of the August Peace might have unguessed means of 
putting me in touch with knowledge. There were deep 
reserves behind his quiet. 

“Master of the Law, if it be lawful to aid me I beseech 
your aid. It is necessary that I should finish this work 
which I inherit from my ancestor. The Exalted One, to 
whom all is known, sees that I have no lust for gold or 
jewels. But what I recover for the lady who is the 
descendant of Ho will be used for good purposes, and if 
it falls into the hands of the Old Buddha you know what 
will be its fate. If you have wisdom in this, I beg your 
assistance.” 

He considered a moment, and then said gravely: 

“It is true, yet I can tell you nothing. If you are in 
doubt, return to the blind man. Yet one thing will I 
say: There is a village between here and Peking known 
as the Village of the Aged Duck. In the village resides 
in poverty a very singular person who failed in his ex¬ 
amination for literary honours, it is said through some 
animosity of the imperial family. But this man is re¬ 
puted to be a fruitful tree of general information, and, 
though it seems improbable, I believe that he might an¬ 
swer the riddle of the Thousand Wise Men.” 

I thanked him warmly, though the hope seemed as 
frail as a cobweb. Yet why should I think anything im¬ 
possible whose quest had been so aided already? 

I rose early next morning and he walked with me as 
far as the silver pines. I remember very well how he 
had done so two years before when my search for Sie had 


224 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


seemed as hopeless as tracking a shooting star. Yet I 
had achieved. He stopped at the first group of trees and 
bowed with the distant courtesy I knew so well. 

“Honourable guest, I wish you well. Your face is set 
toward wisdom, and if I mistake not you will attain. 
In this world we may never meet again, and in the Im¬ 
mensities beyond who can tell 

I asked why he thought that this was our last meeting, 
telling him I hoped to return before long on the errand 
he knew. 

“My time is near,” he returned, “and how can I desire 
to live who know that all is illusion and that through 
death is the Way of Reality? Dare I offer an old man’s 
blessing?” 

I bent my head to receive it, moved very deeply, and 
he bestowed it quietly, and then bid me depart in peace. 
I looked back twice and he was still standing rigidly be¬ 
neath the pines when I reached the drop that took me 
out of sight. 


CHAPTER XIII 


I T was evening of the next day when I reached the 
absurdly named Village of the Aged Duck. It 
would really be worth while to make a list of the 
extraordinarily named villages and cities of China, where 
what seems an amazing ingenuity has been expended on 
the ridiculous. I put up at an inn known as “The Inn of 
the Three Perfections.” The perfections I desired were 
rest, cleanliness and decent food, and of these not one was 
to be had, for a filthier, noisier place I have never seen, 
and even the tea was a disgusting decoction made with 
water from a source which I strongly suspected I had seen 
among the dung heaps in the yard. The rice was ill- 
boiled, the kang (a brick platform with a fire kindled 
beneath it where travellers sit) was heaped with the dirty 
rags of a party of travelling jugglers who had gone out 
to try to earn an honest penny to pay for their board and 
lodging. However, those who travel off the beaten track 
in China must be prepared for such discomforts and 
worse, and I surveyed it all with only the air of haughty 
contempt which gains so much consideration from Ori¬ 
entals, and called for the landlord. He was all obsequi¬ 
ousness, overwhelmed with shame that such a noble lord 
should be a guest of his inn just when unfortunate chances 
prevented its being the mirror of cleanliness that all the 
world knew it. 

I waved that aside coldly. 

225 


226 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“My stay will not be sufficiently long to occasion me 
inconvenience, and you shall be rewarded for any efforts 
made in my service. I desire to ask if this remote vil¬ 
lage is honoured by the presence of a sage named Shih?” 

He looked surprised at the question, but bowed low. 

“There is certainly a resident named Shih, but since 
he failed in his examinations, is it lawful, noble person, 
to regard him as a sage? His poverty also is great.” 

“The sages have not been remarkable for wealth,” said 
I, “but rather for their contempt of it. Kindly send a 
servant to inquire if I may wait on this learned person. 
Inform him that my name is Wu Chen, a graduate of 
literature, and that if it be agreeable I am wishful to 
drink at the fountain of his information.’’ 

Promising obedience, he hurried off, leaving me to my 
attitude of distinguished calm, and presently I saw a 
tousle-headed servant making her way through the litter 
of the pig yard, where two donkeys also added to the 
rural charm by braying at the tops of their voices. 

When she returned, the host himself offered to guide 
me, and we set out through the Village of the Aged Duck, 
squalid and wretched even for the poverty of some dis¬ 
tricts in China. Lean curs barked about us. Lean pigs 
scuffled for the possession of foods unmentionable to ears 
polite, naked children disputed it with them while half- 
naked, wisp-haired mothers spared scarcely a glance 
from their tumble-down doorways. It is pitiable to see 
so worthy a people as the Chinese, living as they do in 
a country of untapped riches, reduced to such straits by 
sheer misgovernment. 

We waded and paddled through the filth as best we 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


227 


could on enormous stepping-stones placed at such dis¬ 
tances that it needed the spring of a chamois to leap from 
one to the other in safety. But we arrived, for presently 
a tumble-down house rose before us, with the decoration 
of a more tumble-down veranda in which I saw a man in 
a tattered gown writing. 

“This is the shrine of the jewel you seek, noble lord,” 
said the host of the inn, and, bowing almost to the earth, 
requested me to say whether it was my pleasure he should 
wait for me. I disclaimed the honour and went on alone. 

I am bound to own that the shrewd intelligence of that 
man’s face was astonishing. How he could have fallen 
into such poverty would have been an unanswerable rid¬ 
dle, if I had not seen the unmistakable opium look in his 
eyes and its effect in his shaking hands. He rose, how¬ 
ever, with a manner beyond his surroundings, and offered 
me a seat, politely bowing and standing until I took it, 
and refusing to be seated himself until I had stated my 
business. 

“I am informed,” said I, “that your learning is not to 
be matched in China for its command of general infor¬ 
mation. Passing through the Village of the Aged Duck, 
it was impossible I should depart without a specimen of 
such skill, and I beg leave to present a few questions 
which will be the sport of a child to the profundities of 
your knowledge.” 

Poor wretch. I could hear the crying of many chil¬ 
dren, and the scolding of an angry woman in the back 
places of the house. His eyes fixed eagerly on my face. 

“Little is known to this humble individual, but all is 
at your service, great person. What would you inquire?” 


228 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


I had prepared a string of three or four questions to 
introduce the one that mattered. 

“What is the distance in nautical miles between the 
ports of Shanghai and Bombay?” 

It so happened I had heard a bet between two naval 
men in the club at Peking on this subject, and the figures 
were in my mind. To my utter amazement he thought 
an instant and answered perfectly correctly. I declare 
I was almost too surprised to collect my own thoughts 
for the next attempt. 

However, I returned to the charge. 

“What are the latitude and the longitude of the port of 
Sourabaya?” 

He gave them immediately and correctly. I bowed 
and expressed my sincere astonishment at his gifts, and 
a faint pleasure appeared in his sallow face. I asked if 
he could tell me to what botanical genus the famous blue 
poppy of Tibet belonged. Without a moment’s delay 
he answered that it was not a true poppy and gave me 
the Latin name. 

Now came the crux. 

“Supposing you had been told to ask the Thousand 
Wise Men for information, to which of the ancient sages 
would you go?” 

“To none. To the Tara Lamasery of the Thousand 
Lamas. The Mingan Lamane Tara,” he replied in the 
same breath. “There are more than a thousand now, 
but the ancient country folk still call it by that name. 
It is an ancient lamasery in Mongolia.” 

I dared not stop to digest the information. I merely 
said: 


THE TREASURE OF HO 229 

“I have heard of another institution of much the same 
name. Have I not entrapped your wisdom here?” 

“By no means, my lord. Tara in the country of Mon¬ 
golia is the abode of the Thousand Wise Men. The 
other is not now called by that name.” 

“Such wisdom,” I said, “is overwhelming to the in¬ 
tellect. I will ask but one more question and depart in 
humility. In what country is the vegetable inscriber?” 

I thought I had him then. But he was swift as 
lightning. 

“In the country of Tibet is a tree whose leaves as they 
unfold are each inscribed with words in praise of the 
Exalted Saint Tsong-Kaba. This tree is found at the 
Lamasery of Kunboum and is known as the Tree of the 
Ten Thousand Images.” 

I was floored. Like the Queen of Sheba in similar case, 
I had no more spirit left in me. Besides, I had got what 
I wanted. I rose and bowed, saying: 

“Learned Sir, in the whole Celestial Empire there can¬ 
not be your peer. The privilege of sitting at your feet 
is one that the greatest should desire. Accept an inad¬ 
equate token of my esteem with the assurance that wher¬ 
ever I go your praises shall be loud on my tongue.” 

He was genuinely pleased, poor devil, apart from the 
substantial reward I laid on the rickety table, grace¬ 
fully folded in paper. I saw his eyes seek it anxiously 
before he escorted me, bowing, to the rotten paling that 
hedged in his little domain. He protested volubly that I 
had asked him nothing difficult. If I would come again 
with high and searching questions he would do his best 
to justify my opinion. 


230 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


Well, it was a curious business. Remarkable mem¬ 
ories are common enough in China, but I think any one 
will admit that the questions I asked were unlikely ones 
for a Chinese village. There are queer characters in 
China, and strange professions if you know where to look. 
I heard much of this man afterward in various places. 
He had quite a fame of his own and was known as the 
“Solver of Secrets.” 

I got back to the Three Perfections, and through the 
miserable night, tormented by predatory insects and 
close, foul air, I considered my next move. The Tara 
Lamasery. I had heard the name, though never in con¬ 
nection with the Thousand, and I knew very well that 
it was across the prairie desert in northern Tartary. The 
more I thought of it, the more certain I felt it was 
exactly the place that the blind man’s ancestor might have 
chosen for the hiding place of his share of Ho’s treasure. 
None better in the world, if you knew the ropes, but 
a terrible business at that date and no means an easy 
one now. I must confess an exposition of sloth seized 
me for the moment. Sie had enough, and more than 
enough in the deposit at the Tiger’s Den. Why not let 
the rest slide and await its appointed fate in times to 
come? But that mood did not last. If a man has set 
himself a task he must see it through, especially if it 
concerns another person and that person the woman he 
loves and is bound in honour to deliver from a hateful 
slavery. 

I could not put myself in touch with the blind man 
that night, for I had no privacy and was obliged to sleep 
on the kang in company with the tired travelling jugglers, 


THE TREASURE OF HO 231 

or rather to wake and battle with the pests of air and 
earth. 

I was thankful when the dawn came, and with its first 
glimmer I was up and on my way. A curious circum¬ 
stance happened, however. As I made my way through 
the village, alternately hopping and springing, I beheld 
the learned Shih leaning disconsolately against his paling 
and looking more of a scarecrow than the day before, 
allowing even for the unbecoming dawn light. He 
greeted me with reverence, and I stopped a moment to 
pay a last compliment. 

“Undeserved. Entirely undeserved!” he replied bow'- 
ing. “As regards the honourable question as to the 
Thousand, it is singular that I was asked the same ques¬ 
tion lately.” 

“Indeed!” said I, stopping dead. “And by whom?” 

“A young man of undistinguished appearance.” 

“Pray describe him. I may meet him some day.” 

“Surely, my lord, it is unlikely. Yet though the world 
contains untold millions, and the Shan-tsu desert be 
boundless, there Li Hung met with his mother-in-law. 
The young man was slight, black-haired and of pleasing 
appearance. He desired to become a lama there.” 

“His name?” 

“Was not given, my lord. He thirsted for religious 
life in the wilds and inquired also about the Lamasery 
of the Five Towers. A harmless person. May a pros¬ 
perous star conduct your journey to a prosperous close.” 

No more could I get and we parted. I had plenty to 
consider. The coincidence of that question seemed 
amazing and yet might easily be nothing, for the Tara 


232 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


Lamasery is known to many in Peking though the old 
name is never used now. 

The next night I got down to a hopeless little place— 
the Inn of Exalted Equity—in a village in a cleft of the 
hills not very far off Peking, and then, earning myself 
the name of a lunatic, I elected to sleep in an empty shed, 
clean and heaped with cornstalks, by a running stream, 
sooner than face the kang and the stagnant air inside. 
And so I secured nature and quiet, almost the two best 
things in the world to my taste. 

I lay down at ten o’clock, looking at the moon through 
the place where the door should have been. She wore 
a more friendly face than her cold stare at the Temple 
of the August Peace, and the night was infinitely cool 
and sweet, and heavenly draughts were blowing about me. 

I resolved that I would get in touch with my master 
somehow, anyhow, at the appointed hour. It was a 
quarter to ten, and if ever I made a resolution in this 
world it was to keep awake and communicate. But by 
ten o’clock I was dead asleep. 

And then on winged feet came to me a dream—a very 
strange one! 

I saw not my master, but Sie. She was standing be¬ 
hind the Empress’s great chair, which was draped in the 
imperial yellow, and her arms were folded on its back 
and her head leaned on them as if in deep thought or 
prayer. She was alone. In the vagueness of a dream 
I did not know whether I was in the room with her or not. 
Only we were together, near and dear, as we had never 
been in life. She melted into my arms as dream people 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


233 


do—was there suddenly, warm and sweet, looking up 
with eyes like moonlit wells of love—sweetest eyes were 
ever seen, I thought—and either she was speaking Eng¬ 
lish or some language common to all the dwellers of 
dreamland, for her speech was as natural to me as my 
own. 

“Darling,” she said; “heart of my heart, do no more. 
Go no farther. Be satisfied as I am. It is enough— 
enough. Only disappointment beyond. Stay with me. 
Stay!” 

And then her words dissolved in the liquid wordless 
music all lovers know, love interpreted in sound, in touch, 
in hearing, in the perfumed warmth of delicious hair, and 
eyelashes that brushed the lips with a caress, and breath 
as purely sweet as spring flowers—but who can speak of 
it? And then she drew herself apart and laughed like 
the crystal wind bells in the palace gardens. 

“Bodies are such stupid things!” she said. “Yours 
is lying asleep by a stream in the field of the Inn of 
Exalted Equity, and I am dreaming at Hsian, and yet 
the real you holds the real me in his dear arms and we 
have cast aside the foolish peepholes of the five dull 
senses for the blind master’s sight. I see your spirit, 
clear as you really are. And I—am I not beautiful?” 

“Divinely sweet,” I said, and looked and looked at the 
shining thing I held in my arms and could not be satisfied. 
Never was living woman so lovely fair. I could have 
looked for ever and desired no more. And yet, even then 
she fluttered softly, and slipped away and laughed at a 
distance—the elfin beauty!—and I saw her eyes like stars 


234 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


in a cloud, and they vanished, and only a dream-distant 
voice said: “Stay with me. Stay with me, beloved,” 
and died far off. 

I slept after that in a depth of shadowy sleep that 
bathed and refreshed me like the darkness of deep water, 
and when I awoke I remembered every detail. But it 
was only a lover’s dream, I thought. Nothing to in¬ 
fluence a man except to greater love of the sweet spirit 
that fled to him across the night. 

Certainly I never hesitated about going, and what I 
had found made me even keener to find the rest. I 
wanted to complete my work and lay it finished at her 
feet. Also I had the kind of pride that any man worth 
his name feels in putting his job through. 

I got down into Peking three or four days later and 
made all my plans for the trek to the Land of Grass. 
The main route was not strange to me for part of the way, 
for, as I have said, I had spent two summers in Mongolia, 
but of the Tara district I knew nothing. Mongolia is a 
large order. A fascinating country, too, in its wild way 
—I had always meant to go again, though I never fore¬ 
saw how it would come about. But I did not expect any 
difficulties. I could smatter away at the language. I 
am a born traveller among Orientals, and besides I should 
have a Mongol camel driver or two—plenty of them 
knocking about Peking. I put it through as quickly as 
I could in the disturbed state of affairs, and in less than 
a week my party was ready, four camels, a mule, two 
camel drivers and an awful-looking ruffian named Cheng 
as my servant, who had the kindest heart I ever knew 
under the roughest exterior. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


235 


I visited the friendly temple where I kept my various 
kits, in the forlorn hope of a word from the blind man, 
but there was nothing. A keen disappointment, for his 
silence since the “sending” at the Temple of the August 
Peace had got a bit on my nerves. There was so much 
in which I needed his counsel, and information was of the 
utmost importance. I wanted to know whether my fairy 
tale of the one-eyed priest had kept the Empress busy—I 
wanted to know a hundred things; and beyond and above 
all this I wanted news of Sie. Passionately, I thought 
of her night and day; but she, too, came no more in 
dream, and the nights were as empty as the days. 

But for all these anxieties and the haste I had to make 
because of the coming winter, my run into Mongolia 
would have been a pleasant thing in its way. There was 
plenty to occupy the mind. Disbanded parties of Boxers 
were said to be roving about the Contiguous Defiles and 
beyond, which gave a spice of adventure. One knew 
exactly what that would be—just a variant on the good 
old brigand of those parts, who requests a loan of your 
purse with such polite address that if you have the bru¬ 
tality to refuse he really seems justified in resenting your 
rudeness with shot or cold steel. But I had made very 
effectual little preparations for this kind of attention, 
and did not anticipate trouble. We carried our own 
tents, for apart from the dirt and discomfort of the inns, 
when there happen to be any, it is just in these inns that 
you are watched by the gentry who will ambush you 
further along the route and slit your throat with as little 
compunction as they would a pig’s. 

To me Mongolia is one of the most fascinating coun- 


236 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


tries in the world. A strange, dry land of desert, moun¬ 
tain and endless prairie, of frightful heat in summer, of 
devastating cold in winter. But a wizard land, also, of 
most sinister beauty and wild desolation, where the moun¬ 
tains burn with metallic colour as if glowing hot from the 
work of infernal smiths in the abyss, and the vast lakes 
and rushing rivers are sublime in loneliness. And, in 
these wild solitudes the very religion of the Lord Buddha 
has lost its peace and reverie and has become terrible in 
aspect from its blending with the original devil worships 
of the Tartar peoples, and is now a medley of strange re¬ 
incarnated gods and saints, human deities who dwell in 
their secret but densely populated lamaseries, wielding 
magical powers which alternately terrify and charm the 
roaming tribes who believe in them so devoutly. 

There is no country in the world so dominated by 
religion as Mongolia, if it be not Tibet. Every action, 
every thought of every man and woman is swayed by the 
lamas and their teachings. In every yurta (tent) of 
these nomad peoples is the altar of their faith. In every 
sickness, death, birth, marriage, the lamas must be there 
to work their charms and summon the kindly spirits and 
dismiss the dangerous. And the evil spirits are the more 
numerous. Who could doubt that in seeing the face 
nature turns here upon her children? Life is so small 
a thing here and death so near, so terrible. What won¬ 
der if they make their humble offerings to propitiate the 
dark Unseen? 

And to one of these great and marvellous lamaseries I 
was bound with my own little load of hopes and fears, 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


237 


What should I find there of wild and melancholy and 
dangerous to meet me? There was an augury of dark 
things in my own heart, which I set down to the many 
dangers past rather than to those yet to come. 


CHAPTER XIV 


I PASS over the first part of my trek. Any one who 
knows Peking has seen the strings of camels leav¬ 
ing by the frowning pyramidal gates for the wilds, 
and a romantic sight it is until it becomes an everyday 
experience. 

So I struck north and west, following the well-worn 
trade route at first, and left civilization behind me. If 
it were not spinning too long a yarn an interesting book 
might be made of the adventures of such a life, for, so 
far from being lonely, except of course later on, one cer¬ 
tainly meets as queer a collection of human beings as 
anywhere in the universe: Trading Chinese with bland, 
enigmatic faces and greedy souls beneath, the blood¬ 
suckers of the simple Mongol people who once ruled 
China itself through their great khans; lamas journeying 
to and from the great Lama Temple at Peking; Mongols 
chasing their wild horses on the prairies; camel and horse 
caravans carrying every sort of goods to the great mart 
of the Far East. 

Every language I knew' or smattered was in requisition 
many times a day at first, for in the earlier stages a scat¬ 
tered Englishman, Frenchman or Russian would turn up 
smiling among the natives. But I was chary with my 
English, as became a Chinese, and my French is bad 
enough to pass anywhere as an Oriental effort. 

There is no life like the life of the open road. To this 
238 


THE TREASURE OF HO 239 

day I would rather see a Mongol yurta than a king’s 
palace. 

We had been out about a month and were trekking 
through the sandy steppes when we overtook an old lama 
pacing gravely along the track on a sturdy little horse. 
These men, owing to their religious character, can travel 
alone in safety where it would be madness for others to 
venture, for the Mongols would guard them with their 
lives, and the Chinese, who are quite uninterested in 
poverty, knowing their pockets are empty, seldom trouble 
themselves to look their way. 

He greeted us kindly and asked permission to join us 
for part of the journey, and this, a common civility of the 
road, I granted at once. He drew up beside me and 
began talking volubly. Where was I for? He was on 
the way to his owh lamasery, having seen the frightful 
events in Peking from the safe shelter of the Lama 
Temple. He had had enough of the great world, he said, 
and never would leave the wilds again. 

“There is peace. A man rises in the morning, and 
expects to lay his head down in safety at night. You, 
my brother, are you also fleeing from the bloody terror?” 

“No, holy person. I journey on pilgrimage to the 
Lamasery of Tara, but I shall return when business calls 
me.” 

“You are then a follower of the Excellent One in his 
various incarnations and manifestations.” 

“I salute the Excellent One with profound reverence.” 

“It is well. Then the company of this humble servant 
of the Faith will not displease you. The Lamasery of 
Tara is my homfe and there I also am bent. Very won- 


240 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


derful powers are vouchsafed to the Hubilgan of the 
Lamasery of Tara. He is, as you know, a reincarnate 
Buddha.” 

“So I have heard. Also that wisdom is the heritage 
of the lamas of Tara, and therefore the Mongols call it 
the Abode of the Thousand Wise Men.” 

“That also is true, worthy stranger. A whole class 
of our brothers are devoted to the study of the science of 
marvels, another to planetary lore, and a third to herbal. 
Half the simples used by our brothers throughout Mon¬ 
golia are compounded at the Lamasery of Tara.” 

“I promise myself much instruction there, and propose 
to make offerings testifying my respect for the Sacred 
Manifestation.” 

I thought it as well to make this statement, wishing to 
pass as a person of consideration, to whom it would be 
worth while to be civil. 

He looked at me with surprise. 

“Worthy person, this wisdom is not bought or sold. 
You cannot suppose that a living Buddha is influenced 
by gifts or gold?” 

“Far be such a thought from me. Yet the Excellent 
One himself did accept the gift of a garden and mon¬ 
astery for his order.” 

This reference was graciously received, and we rode 
a while in silence. 

“Of what age is His Holiness the living Buddha,” I 
asked at last. 

“He is now sixty-four years old and replete with wis¬ 
dom. He recalls all the events of all his previous incar- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


241 


nations at will, and for this reason there is no historical 
circumstance dark to him, and this has caused frequent 
embassies to be sent him from the reigning dynasties in 
Peking, both the Mings and the Manchus, that they may 
benefit by his advice and experience.’ , 

I turned this over in my mind. Ridiculous, the up-to- 
date Westerner will say. A man must be a lunatic to 
attach any importance to the ravings of a heathen. Let 
me assure the up-to-date Westerner that he has a lot to 
learn and unlearn, and a few months’ tourist tripping in 
the Far East will do very little for him in either respect. 
Only those know the wonders of the Orient who have 
lived among the people many years, and with sympathy 
and knowledge. So, knowing a little, I went on with my 
questions. 

“Does His Holiness recall all the dealings of the La¬ 
masery with the Court of Peking?” 

“Certainly, and His Holiness is very approachable and 
gracious to those who seek information. Great confi¬ 
dence has been reposed in him by the mighty, in this and 
previous incarnations.” 

This set me thinking deeply. It occupied my mind 
through heat and cold, and visits to Mongol yurtas, and 
queer half-Chinese, half-Tartar towns, where an adven¬ 
ture befell me that I may write one day. Was it possible 
that the Hubilgan held the direct secret of the treasure? 
Would the blind man’s ancestor have committed it to the 
charge of any man and above all an ecclesiastic with the 
interests of his own lamasery to consider? And what 
would be my chances of success if I claimed it as the 


242 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


agent of the rightful heir? And how long would the 
news take to reach the Empress, and what then would 
Sie’s chance of life or my own be worth? 

These were interesting questions, and were often the 
unseen groundwork of my talks with the Peking lama, 
as I called him; but friendly as he was I could get no¬ 
thing else useful from him. 

But we became very friendly as we journeyed on to¬ 
gether and I was glad of a companion with something 
more of education and insight than my drivers and serv¬ 
ant. He, in his turn, was grateful for the little comforts 
I could provide and he shared my tent and fire, and told 
me in return many strange tales of the life in the Lama¬ 
sery of Tara and the magic powers of the Holy Hubilgan 
who ruled it. Some I believed, some I put aside as 
superstition. I would judge for myself when the time 
came. But one thing became very clear to me, though 
nothing was directly said on that point, namely, that 
great political movements were germinating in the lama¬ 
series in the wilds, and that if I kept my eyes open and 
my mouth shut I might carry back news to the blind man 
of the first importance concerning the disposition of the 
Powers in Mongolia who sway the march of the Banner 
Men (the armed Mongol tribes)—a matter which might 
be of the first moment when the great Day he looked for¬ 
ward to should come. 

We had a trifling brush with a roving band, and, 
whether they were Boxers or no, they gave us a wakeful 
night, and might have done some mischief if I had not 
been prepared. 

We had seen some men scouting on horses during the 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


243 


day, but paid no attention, thinking they were the or¬ 
dinary riders of the prairies. But, when we had all 
turned in and were sleeping soundly, a little Mongol boy 
came creeping in by the door flap and timidly touched the 
lama. 

“Man of prayer, holy lama, wake! There is danger! ” 
he whispered and was gone like a dream. I waked to see 
the lama at the tent door looking toward the east with 
keen expectation quite unmixed with alarm. 

“Worthy traveller, make ready. My people have seen 
a party of Kitats (Chinese) approaching from the east, 
and there is trouble.” 

There was, but not of a very accentuated nature; a 
few shots, and it was all over, and I should not mention 
it but for two reasons. First, the delightful attitude of 
the lama, who, though forbidden by his faith to shed 
blood, was most helpfully active up to the very point of 
letting fly at the foe, and as keen as any of us that we 
should wing the quarry; and second, the very curious fact 
that from a paper we found on the body of one of the two 
men we killed, it was certain they were in the employ¬ 
ment of Yu Hsien, not only an ardent patron of the 
Boxers, but high in the favour of the Empress—in fact 
one of her right-hand men. I thought nothing of this at 
the time, but it recurred to me later. 

I shall never forget the day when we came in sight of 
the great lamasery. It impressed me as few other places 
ever have done. There had been a tremendous thunder¬ 
storm with all the artillery of heaven let loose upon us 
and a deluge to follow that left us mere pulp. The 
camels were wading and slipping in mud very distasteful 


244 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


to their feelings, which they relieved by the queer cries 
peculiar to their queer natures, and only the lama’s horse 
and the little mule held gallantly on through rock and 
mud and stream. But suddenly the sun shot radiant 
beams through the clouds, and a magnificent rainbow 
spanned the way before us. The lama, overjoyed, raised 
his hand to heaven and cried: “It is the welcome of the 
Hubilgan to his faithful returning disciple. Lift up your 
eyes, worthy traveller. We have reached the Lamasery 
of Tara.” 

We rounded a corner and before us on a hill, well 
wooded and watered, were many great buildings, sur¬ 
rounded with numberless small huts, painted or washed 
a clean white. Three handsome temples centred the 
buildings, rising high to pagoda-shaped towers with gilded 
pinnacled roofs. And behind these sprang a sheer cliff, 
a great part of the face of it worked into niches where 
sat or stood strange gods and goddesses like giant bees in 
a giant honeycomb, but painted brilliant colours. So 
they stared over the countryside, visible a long way off. 
In these wilds and among the trees the effect was really 
beautiful, and the little town, clustering about them, had 
a religious air because its population consisted almost 
entirely of lamas, pilgrims who arrived being obliged to 
camp on the plain outside. I, however, being introduced 
by the Peking lama, who spoke of me in much handsomer 
terms than I deserved, was given a hut with a place ad¬ 
joining for my servant, and was at once invited to pay 
my devotions in the chief temple. It was easy to see one 
was in a town devoted to religion, for at every bend of 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


245 


the beautiful stream that watered it were fixed praying 
wheels without number, turning in the rush of the water, 
and thus incessantly repeating their mystic invocation to 
the Jewel in the Lotus. The barrel prayer-wheels stood 
everywhere, also, and many lamas were grinding indus¬ 
triously at these heavenly labour-saving machines. Be¬ 
fore us in the street the young lamas from other parts 
were performing the curious rite by which one encircles a 
lamasery in a series of prostrations. They rose, then laid 
themselves flat on the ground, forehead touching it, arms 
spread before it with the hands joined. In each hand 
was a horn which was drawn back in a curve until the 
hands touched the side. Then they rose and repeated the 
prostration until the whole circuit of the lamasery was 
made. And anything like the exhaustion of these poor 
creatures I have seldom seen. Mongolian Buddhism cer¬ 
tainly takes its dogmas seriously. 

I visited the temple in company with the Peking lama 
and several of my new friends—a place of much splen¬ 
dour with its hanging brocades and glittering images 
and altars crowded to suffocation with sacred objects. I 
was escorted then to my own little abode which my serv¬ 
ant had made habitable enough, and a plate of raisins 
and fruit was offered me by my hosts. 

“Elder brother, rest here in peace,” said the spokes¬ 
man in excellent Chinese. “In peace perform your de¬ 
votions and receive the blessing of the Holy Hubilgan.” 

“May I humbly inquire of what deity His Holiness is 
the reincarnation?” 

“The Buddha of Infallible Magic. Very great are the 


246 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


marvels His Holiness can perform. The pilgrims are now 
gathering to see a sacred miracle which takes place to¬ 
morrow.” 

“Then I cannot have the honour of paying my respects 
to the Holy Hubilgan until afterward?” 

“Certainly not. But there can be no doubt of your 
favourable reception later.” 

I was then left to rest, and after a sound meal and 
sounder sleep, I went forth to examine the amazing place 
in which I found myself. 

Lamas, lamas everywhere! More than half the popu¬ 
lation in Mongolia are lamas. They swarmed; some 
dwellers in the lamasery, some nomads upon the face of 
the earth, but all of the religious community. I talked 
with many who could understand my tongues, but many 
shook their heads and passed on repellent. From none 
did my cautious feelers gain any information as to my 
errand. Indeed every mind was occupied with the com¬ 
ing miracle. All day at intervals the great conches bel¬ 
lowed, calling the religious into the temples where solemn 
services were held with rosaries and holy water and the 
chanting of strong male voices. The lamas crowded in 
in hundreds, in their praying shawls, robed in brown, red, 
or yellow according to their degrees. It was impressive 
to a degree. I stood outside tense with excitement, where 
I could look into the dim rich interior, cloudy with in¬ 
cense, crowded, magical, dim, the images of the deities 
glimmering faintly. No one would tell me what the mir¬ 
acle was to be. Perhaps they did not know. But the 
laity would be admitted to see it, and the camps of pil¬ 
grims were forming thick on the plains outside the little 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


247 


town—the tents rising like huge balloons into the air. 

Magic! I had often heard of the magic of the lamas 
and with intense curiosity. I was very sure it would 
have nothing in common with the high spiritual teachings 
of my master. All I had heard was surrounded with ter¬ 
ror and mystery. None the less interesting for that. 


CHAPTER XV 


T HE scene next morning was astonishing. In bril¬ 
liant weather, men, women and children were 
pouring into the place from every direction of 
the compass and riding on every sort of animal known 
to Mongolia. Where they were all to be accommodated, 
I could not think, and was turning this over in my mind 
when the Peking lama came up and solved the riddle. 

“In the great court of the temple the miracle will be 
shown, noble guest. Come now with me that you may 
secure a good place for the very sight ensures blessings.” 

We hurried along for all we were worth for the crowd 
was already pouring in through the great gates—a really 
wonderful sight in the setting of the blue-tiled Chinese 
roofs with the gilt dolphins and dragons on the corners. 

We pushed along with the stream, and the Peking 
lama’s authority, aided by vigourous thrusts with his arms 
and legs, got me into the front row. 

An extraordinary sight. At the end of the great court 
an altar was raised and around it in a semicircle sat the 
principal lamas in solemn silence. When the crowd had 
made its way in the gates were shut and the great conches 
bellowed with a deafening clamour that was echoed back 
to us by the mountains. They ceased. Then, in a 
silence where you might have heard a breath, the Holy 
Hubilgan appeared from the temple, attended by six Ge- 
lungs, or high lamas, wearing the five-leafed tiaras used 
248 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


249 


in worshipping the Eight Terrible Ones. The reincar¬ 
nated saint wore a very high conical cap with inscribed 
ribbon appendages falling on his breast. His face was 
pale and ascetic, the eyes very black and piercing in spite 
of their Mongolian setting, and the jaw prominent and 
resolute. What I could see of the hair was snow white. 
An imposing figure, very still and stately. Ascending 
steps at the back, he climbed to the altar, looked be¬ 
fore him for a moment, and then quietly composed him¬ 
self into a sitting position, raised his hand, and the in¬ 
vocations began. 

The six Gelungs uttered a deep-throated chant, and 
at every pause the assembled lamas thundered a response 
until the sonorous waves of sound beat against the brain 
almost to terror. The Gelungs chanted quicker, the re¬ 
sponse grew louder, fiercer—it grew until, like the para¬ 
lysing roar of the lion, it seemed to come from nowhere 
and everywhere in a frightful crescendo that culminated 
in a deafening outburst, and stopped so suddenly that the 
silence was as awful as the sound. The Hubilgan raised 
his hand to the sky and all the assembly stared upward 
into the stainless azure, and as we looked a little cloud no 
bigger than a man’s hand formed itself. It spread like 
the rush of a black-winged bird, the sun was obscured, 
rain fell furiously, continuous like crystal rods. Half the 
people sprang to their feet to rush into shelter, but the 
lamas awed them down, and even as they did so the 
Hubilgan waved his hand, the cloud vanished like a 
dream, the sun shone glorious, and where the rain had 
fallen was no wet at all. 

Amazing! No use to talk of coincidence. I had read 


250 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


this thing in the travels of Marco Polo and elsewhere, 
little thinking I should ever see it as an accomplished 
truth. But I was prepared—I had learned a little from 
the blind man of how the senses may be used by those in 
possession either of the sacred or idle secret—the first 
which opens the eyes to things as they really are, the 
second which opens them to what the magician would 
have them believe. It would be interesting to discover 
which this was. I prepared for the test, girding up my 
resolution. 

For the next—a great brass cauldron filled with water 
was set at the end of the great court at the farthest dis¬ 
tance from the Hubilgan. It would contain several gal¬ 
lons. While the invocations to the Eight Terrible Ones 
were renewed, stunning our senses into a kind of quies¬ 
cence, he raised his hand again. It was too far off for 
me to see exactly what happened, but I saw the crowd 
drawing back to either side with a kind of hissing shudder 
of fear. They made a clear way, hustling back on each 
other. Then, turning and half rising, I saw a stream 
of water round and distinct as a snake passing along the 
hard trampled ground between them. Overflowing from 
the rim of the great vessel it was obeying the signal of the 
Hubilgan, and was flowing up the grade of the court to 
the altar. I cannot tell why, but that simple violation of 
a fundamental law impressed me more than the first. 

The Hubilgan made an arresting sign and the water 
stopped obedient, collecting on itself by the flow from 
behind until it stood like a block of ice. He beckoned 
again and it flowed steadily on to the thundering roar 
of the chant of male voices. I saw a woman dip a cloth 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


251 


in it and press it to her lips—many followed her. As it 
passed I dipped my own hand and the clear drops ran 
from my fingers. The water flowed on to the foot of the 
altar and was gone. The cauldron was empty. 

A long, heaving sigh broke from the multitude. 

I find it difficult to describe the condition of my brain 
as I saw these wonders in glaring daylight. The sono¬ 
rous chanting, the passionate emotion of the crowd, the 
white dominating face, the convulsive tremors of the 
chanting lamas—swaying from side to side—how can a 
man escape the contagion that makes the very air an ac¬ 
complice in what he sees or thinks he sees? I felt the 
blood rush to my head, the nerves tingled along my spine 
as if living things crept there. With difficulty I steadied 
myself. 

Then amid the terrible invocations one of the Gelungs 
rose and tendered a long knife to the Hubilgan. He put 
aside the robe about his shoulders, bared his breast to 
below the waist, exposing the abdomen, and with two 
swift cross cuts of the knife, performing what is known 
in Japan as the hara-kiri. I saw the blood pouring in 
a crimson flood. I saw—but no, these things are not for 
words—the sobbing multitude flung themselves on their 
faces, and one of the Gelungs, rising, advanced to the foot 
of the altar. Like one man, the lamas ceased chanting. 
The man standing before the altar spoke loudly. In the 
dead silence came question and answer: 

“Holy One, tell us of our country. What is her 
doom?” 

An awful voice from the awful bleeding figure replied: 

“A great doom. From this country like a lit lamp 


252 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


shall the Yellow Faith enlighten the world. The White 
Faith wanes before it like a moon at dawn.” 

“Holy One, what of the Manchu dynasty that has 
stolen our land and oppressed us?” 

“Already it dies. The breath is in its nostrils and a 
wise man twists the sword in its wound.” 

“Holy One, shall the white people wane, and their faith 
wither and Asia triumph?” 

“She shall triumph.” 

“Holy One, is the day of our triumph at hand?” 

“In fourteen summers shall the beginning be seen on 
the earth, and the Empire of Oros (Russia) totter into 
ruin.” 

(Remember it was in the year 1900 that I heard this 
prophecy.) 

“Holy One, we have heard. Return to us from the 
gates of death. Return!” 

And again the wild invocations broke out like a tempest. 

Then suddenly strength of purpose came to me. I 
extricated myself from the torrent of emotion as a man 
may wade to dry land from the sea. I clenched my hands 
and repeated the formula given me by the blind man for 
such occasions as this. I must not give it to the un¬ 
initiated. I will simply say it is called the “Charm of the 
Cleansing of the Eyes,” and that as I repeated it in¬ 
wardly I saw the Hubilgan seated calm and unwounded 
on the altar, swathed in his robes, untouched, serene and 
collected, while the multitude screamed and sobbed be¬ 
fore him. I saw the rigid faces of the six Gelungs, the 
enlightened, who saw the scene in its reality even as I 
did. To all this I can swear. It is the truth. He was 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


253 


using the amazing power known in India and the Far 
East for ages to compel hundreds, nay, thousands, of 
spectators to see the picture formed in one man’s mind. 
Who shall talk of the power and trustworthiness of the 
senses after this? Who shall say that seeing is be¬ 
lieving? 

Then I released myself. I sprang, as it were, into 
the ocean of illusion again that I might see the thing to 
the end. 

The lamas began a very soft intoning. The Peking 
lama whispered that it was “The Formula of Re¬ 
turn,” very quiet, like a far-off music sung with shut lips. 
The Hubilgan, now almost drained of blood, which 
dripped on all sides from the altar, raised some in his 
right hand and breathed upon it three times, then, with a 
loud and terrible cry, flung it into the air. He passed his 
hand over the cross-cut and gaping wound, and as he did 
so, it closed, the flesh contracted, the skin resumed its 
natural colour. The wound was gone. The crowd on 
its knees watched the marvel. 

Then drawing his robe about him with no trace re¬ 
maining of what had been done, he sat, death-white and 
still, on the altar and imparted his blessing to all present, 
and finally, leaning on two Gelungs, he stepped down 
slowly and disappeared into the temple, and the people 
pressed forward to secure some token of the sacred blood 
that still dripped from the altar. 

I broke away from the Peking lama and climbed up 
into the woods overhanging the temples, and there tried 
to adjust my mind and draw my conclusions. I have 
drawn them long since and that sight would not now 


254 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


move me to any emotion, least of all to that of surprise. 
Let the West prattle of mass hynotism, let it in its ig¬ 
norance discuss the subconscious self and its powers, and 
when it has exhausted conjecture, let it sit at the feet of 
the Orient and learn the old knowledge that was hoary 
with the wisdom of ages when Moses studied the wisdom 
of the Egyptians. And then will come the inevitable 
end. The West will apply it to its own inappeasable 
thirst for gold and power, and the world will go down in 
ruin. 

So I say no more. I spent that day alone. The next 
I was summoned to the presence of the Holy Hubilgan. 

I was led by endless passages with endless doors open¬ 
ing from them to a wider one which ended in a golden 
door richly embossed with symbols of dragons and sacred 
figures apparently controlling them. The Peking lama 
who was my guide knocked very low three times, and 
then opened it. I saw his long yellow hand trembling 
as he did so, and when it opened he threw himself on 
the flour inside and so remained through our whole 
interview. And now what I tell will not be believed, yet 
is true. 

The Holy Hubilgan was seated alone in a great room 
pierced with only two small windows and therefore very 
dim. Before him was a low table of carved Chinese 
blackwood. His face was death-pale, and, in a setting 
white as snow 4 , gleamed his strange eyes like glittering 
black jewels, magnetic, piercing, terrifying. My heart 
seemed to open like the valves of a shell to disclose its 
secrets when he turned them slowly on me. He wore a 
white robe folded about him, the cushions he sat on were 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


255 


white. In the dimness of the room, he cast a pale light 
about him like a ghost, a memory taking shape for a brief 
moment between life and death. On his long slender 
hand was a great barbaric ring with a green gem deep as 
fathomless water. 

A cold vibrant thrill ran through every vein as I met 
the intricate eyes that slowly widened on me from this 
living image of ivory. I made my humble salutation, 
and instantly in a clear voice he said in English: 

“You deny your country. But you are an English¬ 
man. What is your reason?” 

I could not have spoken to save my life. It took me 
so utterly by surprise. Was I dreaming? English! 
But I collected my mind hurriedly. Who could know 
what language he was talking? I only knew that I heard 
it as English. The blind man had prepared me here, as 
in so much else. 

“You own you are English?” 

“I own it.” 

“Your name?” 

“John Mallerdean.” 

He looked calmly at me. 

“Your ancestor was a man of note in the days of the 
Emperor Ch’ien-lung, a hundred and more years ago. I 
remember him well. Black-haired and eyed like you, 
with straight black brows. A fierce, proud man. He 
came here twice on an errand from the Court at Peking.” 

“And Your Holiness saw him?” 

“I saw him. What have I not seen in the rolling of the 
Wheel of birth and death?” 

“Then Your Holiness knows for what I have come?” 


256 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


It seemed impossible to fence with this wonderful per¬ 
son. I threw up my hands, so to speak. 

“I know. You have come for the treasure of Ho. The 
secret was deposited here by the ancestor of the Blind 
Man of Hupei.” 

For a moment I think I hardly knew what I was about. 
What use was human planning against this diamond-clear 
searchlight of knowledge? 

“Does Your Holiness know my master?” I said at last. 

“In the flesh, no. Otherwise, yes. He is a mighty 
master, a fountain of the high wisdom, a great initiate.” 

“Then, since I am his disciple, will Your Holiness be¬ 
lieve that I do not seek this treasure with evil thoughts, 
but for its rightful owner?” 

“The story is known to me. I made incantations the 
night you came here. We know the business of all who 
come. You seek it for a young Manchu woman whom 
you will if possible marry. She is the descendant of Ho 
Shen, the servant of the Emperor Ch’ien-lung.” 

How could I speak? And this was the man I had 
hoped to sift with my clever questions—to pick his brains 
unknown to him! He went on serenely. 

“You have found a part of the treasure, but you will 
not find the rest. It is disposed of.” 

I could only stare at him. I caught at a chair near 
me and rested my weight upon it. His expression never 
changed. It might have been a statue unlocking marble 
lips. But Sie—Sie had warned me in a dream. “Dis¬ 
appointment only!” she had said. Was I disappointed? 
My brain was swimming so wildly that honestly I did 
not know myself. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


257 


“Since you are the disciple of your great master, I will 
tell you certain facts from the Book of Celestial Secrets 
where the future and the past are unfolded. Others must 
be hidden until their due time. His ancestor came here, 
and, taking counsel with me, buried the treasure in the 
ruined city of Karakorum where once all the peoples of 
Asia and many of Europe met under the sceptre of 
Genghis Khan the Conqueror. It was securely hidden. 
None could find it but with the password of the Thousand 
Wise Men of Tara. Then he left me to meet the doom 
which I foretold to him. A brave man, and a great re¬ 
birth awaits him. When you return to the blind man ask 
him where the treasure is and he will tell you.” 
a Then Your Holiness recalls that event?” 

“Why not? To me it is an event of yesterday. Do 
I not remember the day when Genghis Khan placed this 
jewel on my hand many centuries ago?” He pointed to 
the green gleam on his thumb, then went on: 

“Have you marvelled why the crafty Empress keeps the 
Manchu girl always about her? I will tell you. She 
is her granddaughter. Her father was the great noble¬ 
man Chi Ching, of the line of Ho. His father was the 
lover of the Empress in her youth. The Old Buddha 
keeps her as a pledge for the treasure of Ho if ever it 
should be found, for of his family there is no other. But 
when it is found she will surely slay her, as she slew that 
lady’s father, who was her own son.” 

Blinding flashes of light burst in upon me. So this 
was the secret—a State secret of the deepest—and it ac¬ 
counted for all I had seen and much that I had dimly 
guessed. Sie, of that great Manchu blood—Sie of the 


258 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


sweet eyes! I trembled before the magnitude of the 
knowledge. But I collected myself. 

“With a most grateful heart I thank Your Holiness. 
What can be hidden from such wisdom? I am abashed 
before it. Yes, I would wed her. What more can I 
say?” 

“She is pure gold. There is no spot nor stain in her and 
her mother was a great lady—a lotus of the Perfect One. 
She would not outlive her lord. If men must love, so 
they should choose. But go back now and say this to 
the Blind Man of Hupei from the Holy Hubilgan of Tara: 
‘You have done well and according to your great wisdom. 
The Manchu is doomed. You, passing upward in your 
next reincarnation, shall see Asia rising like the sun at 
dawn, mighty and terrible. And this treasure of Kara¬ 
korum, though lost to the Lady Sie, is not all lost, for we 
judged it best not to offend those who came for it and 
we have laid a great and terrible curse on the jewels that 
they shall do our work for us.’ Say to the Blind Man: 
‘It has gone where Ho Shen would have wished. Your 
wisdom has discerned where.’ And now I have said, de¬ 
part in peace and swiftly, for your cunning that you 
thought wisdom has put this Sie in peril of her life. 
Therefore, go.” 

In my agony there were questions I burned to ask and 
dared not. Was the future a page open before those ter¬ 
rible glittering eyes? But no man dares question the 
Holy Hubilgan save only in the open multitude of the 
miracle. When he wills he speaks. Not otherwise. 

He willed. In my heart he saw the longing. 

“You ask: ‘Dare I question the reincarnated Bud- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


259 


dha?’ You dare not, but he will answer. You will not 
be too late. Also, you will rise to high things. Sorrow 
mingled with joy, pain with peace. But the peace is eter¬ 
nal and the pain passes. Your eyes are open to the Law 
of Life and Death, and in the evil days to come you shall 
not flinch.” 

He flung his hand outward and I saw, through rolling 
clouds of mist, a great plain, trenched and wired, heaped 
with the bodies of men in grey, in faded blue, in dust 
colour. Smoke blew about it, strange shapes rode the air 
like giant birds of prey. I put my hands before my face 
and it was gone. The dim walls confronted me. 

“You have seen. It is the birth of Asia. The death of 
Europe. Go.” 

I knelt before him—who could do otherwise?—and he 
lifted the thin hand with the ring and muttered what I 
could not understand. For in the fear of that vision I 
had lost hold of the cord of communion, if I may so put it, 
and suddenly his speech was strange to me. 

These men have the power to think understanding to 
you, and it seems to take the form of the speech you know 
best. That is all I can say. 

I rose, retreating backward to the door and looking 
back saw him still, an image of ivory his hand propping 
his chin, with weird eyes darkening on the future. 

The Peking lama gathered himself together and crawled 
to the door and closed it after us. Not a word did he 
say as we trod silently along the passages. Then, when 
we reached more common ground— 

“Is your soul dead within you, noble guest? The Holy 
Hubilgan did not speak. Was he angry?” 


260 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“He spoke to my soul. Venerable lama, will you have 
my servants warned that I leave with the dawn? The 
beasts must be prepared.” 

“Your will shall be done.” 

I sat alone all that day considering what I had heard 
and seen. The place was terrifying, and yet, though I 
say it myself, I am no coward. It was not the magic. 
It was the sense of great events brooding overhead like 
thundercloud and presently to rain ruin on the world, of 
uncontrollable powers wielded by men with aims entirely 
mysterious and indecipherable. Nor was I cheered by an 
evening with the Peking lama and two of the Gelungs 
who had assisted at the miracles. For, ignorant that I 
was a European, these men spoke freely of the prophecies 
current in Tibet and Mongolia, to which the Holy Hubil- 
gan had dimly alluded in the presence of the people. 

These predictions have been known for more than a 
century. They are familiar to every Mongolian and 
Tibetan and these people speak of them with no doubt 
whatever of their fulfilment. The Chinese in those two 
countries know them in every detail. 

A reincarnated Buddha will be bom in the mountains 
to the north of Lhassa. While he remains there, pre¬ 
paring for the great work by fasting and devotions, the 
faith taught by the Buddha will weaken and dwindle 
throughout the nations who hold it. At this time the 
Chinese will gain influence in Tibet, but they cannot hold 
it. There will be a great massacre of the Chinese. After, 
under the command of the reincarnated Buddha of Tashi- 
Lumpo, the peoples of Central and Far Eastern Asia arise. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


261 


They will march on the West, and victory will follow 
their flags. India, Russia, will be the first to succumb, 
but the rest of the nations will follow. The reincarnated 
Buddha will be sovereign of the world, and the Yellow 
Faith be supreme. 

Now, it is easy to laugh at these predictions. A hun¬ 
dred years ago one might have done so at one’s ease, but 
it is a different matter to-day. Writing from the stand¬ 
point of 1923, twenty-three years later than the events 
I chronicle, I say that in the weakening and dissensions 
of the White Powers there is terrible acceleration of the 
deep and surging unrest of Asia. I say that the Japanese- 
Russian War, with its result, appeared to millions of 
throbbing hearts in Mongolia and Tibet to sound the 
dirge of the old superiorities and the birth cries of the 
new. And I say that such predictions, reinforced by such 
miracles as I have described, and passionately believed 
by these peoples, carry their own fulfilment with them. 
And I ask any man to look dispassionately at the weak¬ 
ening of the barriers in Europe, and to remember that the 
hordes of the Tartar and Mongol tribes once overran the 
world from Poland to Hindustan, from Constantinople to 
the China Sea, from Korea to the Ganges, and that their 
descendants founded the great Moghul Empire in India 
which lasted until the English wrested it from them. Let 
another Genghis Khan or Tamerlane rise again, and his¬ 
tory will repeat itself with a vengeance. 

These men talked far into the night and I listened with 
fixed attention. They, at least, believed every word they 
uttered. I can see now the small room, the three fanatic 


262 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


faces, the lean yellow hands gesticulating as they drove 
their points home. These people lived in the future. 
They believed to the uttermost in the powers of their re¬ 
incarnated Lamas and Hubilgans, and it is such beliefs 
as this which have conquered the world and will again. 



CHAPTER XVI 


I LEFT the Tara Lamasery next day, making what 
speed I could for Peking, and seeing very little on 
the way, for I was engrossed with what had hap¬ 
pened and what was to come, and fear for Sie was my 
spur. 

At the Lamasery of the Five Towers, where I stopped 
for the night, news reached me that the Court had 
returned to Peking, the Old Buddha in highest spirits 
and certain of her ability to set the Allies by the ears 
and profit by their divisions. 

“She has plenty of cunning,” said the young lama who 
gave me the news. “She has just the amount of clever¬ 
ness that enables her to destroy. But she cannot build. 
The Manchus have never done that since the days of the 
Emperor Ch’ien-lung, and now in their fall they are drag¬ 
ging China with them. So much the better for Mon¬ 
golia!” 

Again the predictions. I rode on, heavy of heart, won¬ 
dering whether I should present myself at the palace in 
the Forbidden City, and how I should explain myself to 
the Empress. My faith in my master steadied me. 

One night, in the Lamasery of Chorchi, I put myself 
in touch with my master for all I was worth. I had 
tried many times and failed—I suppose owing to my 
mental preoccupation. There were other conversations on 
the telephone! And my own folly stood between us also. 
263 


264 


THE TREASURE OF HO 




I looked out first into the night: a wild moon with 
scudding clouds with the sharp snowclad peaks black 
against it—a wild and lamentable country. Two young 
men sitting outside my window, in spite of the sprinkling 
of snow, were singing the national song of Timur the 
Tartar; for though the lamasery is in Shansi many of 
the men about it are Tartars and Mongolians. It was a 
wild and melancholy air, but with warlike fire shooting 
through it in the fierce drumming repetitions. 

“When the divine Timur (Tamerlane) dwelt in our tents 

The nation was warlike. 

Their look made the peoples tremble. 

Return, O Timur, we await thee. 

We live in our vast plains, where is the chief to lead us? 

Return, O Timur, we await thee. 

We are ready. The Mongols are afoot, O Timur. 

And do thou, great Lama, send down victory on our lances! 

Return, return, O Timur l” 

Tamerlane the Terrible, the Lame Conqueror! That 
also gave me to think. The zest with which they sang 
it, the ardent faces and voices in the icy winter moon 
were ominous. 

I waited until they had gone off, and then with more 
effort than ever yet, lay down in the shifting moonlight 
and waited. 

I knew it would come. A light mist spinning itself 
from invisible threads of moonlight rose before my eyes. 
It filled everything, even my thoughts, with confusion. 
I focussed on a spot of whirling light in the middle, and 
that, spinning like a screw, flung the mist aside and made 




THE TREASURE OF HO 


265 


way for the picture— My master, sitting in the room 
I knew so well in the palace. The trees, now deflowered 
of their rosy blossom, were outside the window. He sat 
with his white keen face set toward me. 

“Come, come here!” the urgent message reached me. 
“Have no fear. Come.” He raised his hand and beck¬ 
oned. And the light whirled again, regathering the mist, 
and the whole picture was resolved into the night. 

I went forward after that with more certainty, and 
reached Peking early in January. The Court had only 
just settled in, and the people were bubbling with stories 
of the Empress’s effective entrance and how well she had 
played up to the foreign gallery. 

“Trust the Old Buddha’s wisdom. She always sees 
her way. There is not a man in the Empire to be com¬ 
pared to her. She commanded that Europeans should 
be allowed to be present at her entry and specially saluted 
them. She will trap them yet, given time!” So said 
the Court party. That was the note, and those who de¬ 
tested the Manchu dynasty were lying low. It saddened 
me to see it. 

Once more the Hakka disciple Yuan, I went into the 
Forbidden City fearlessly and asked to see Li Lien-ying. 
I was kept waiting just long enough to impress me with 
his importance, and then he came swaggering in, his slit 
secret eyes fixed on the floor and only shooting a glance 
at me now and then—hateful in his womanly headdress. 

“Distinguished counsellor of princes, is the Blind Man 
of Hupei here? I have returned to present my duty to 
the Empress and to attend him once more if it be her 
will” 


266 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“The will of the Benevolent Mother is always kindly. 
What is the sage without his disciple? I am charged to 
conduct your wisdom straight to the foot of the throne, 
where you will meet him. Condescend to follow.” 

I saw the game at once. We were not to meet, not to 
have the chance of exchanging a word, before we met in 
the Empress’s presence. She would test my master’s 
counsels and visions by my replies. What intrigued me 
beyond measure was what she herself had been doing in 
the meantime—how had she followed up the wild-goose 
chase I had set her on. 

We went by the well-known ways, Li Lien-ying lead¬ 
ing, massive in his mulberry silk and gold robe, stiff with 
clouds and dragons. He moved like a sleek, velvet- 
pawed cat—all silence. 

The bitter chill of winter was in the wide hall as he 
opened the door, and I made the kowtow and crawled in. 
My master knelt before the chair, but that was not my 
first thought. She stood behind it—her dear face pale 
with cold, her eyes fixed steadily on me as I crawled 
my way up. Not a very dignified position for a lover, 
but less to her eyes than to mine. For I know that if I 
were an outcast, ragged and homeless, those eyes would 
still follow me with faithful love and worship. The, 
Empress Consort stood, as usual, by the Empress’s side. 

I had never seen the Empress look better or younger. 
She had a fresh colour, her eyes were bright, all her ges¬ 
tures vivid and energetic. She was dressed in the old 
splendour with chain upon chain of pearls on her bosom, 
and was brimful of hope and success. No longer 


THE TREASURE OF HO 267 

weighed down with difficulties, but arrogant and confi¬ 
dent, her old despotic self. I foresaw trouble. 

I made my prostrations and knocked my head thrice 
on the floor, and then ventured a brief salutation of peace 
to my master, who returned it. 

“Faithful disciple, we welcome you,” said her Majesty. 
“Many and great events have happened since you went 
out like the autumn swallow on your journey. Let your 
tongue now rejoice us with the glad tidings acquired.” 

“Sacred sovereign, I will be brief and truthful, as be¬ 
comes a worm before the Throne. On leaving you I 
wandered long in search of the temple of your vision and 
of the one-eyed priest, and I sought for tidings of the 
man who in Tai-Yuan had recognized the jade dragon, 
and I could hear nothing.” 

Her eyes narrowed and glinted. She shot a glance 
aside at Li Lien-ying. I went on: 

“So then, by a chance hint that reached me and upon 
which I concentrated all my powers, I became aware 
that a servant of Ho had been entrusted with a great 
charge—even the concealment of his master’s treasure. 
Later he had met his doom at the will of the Son of 
Heaven, and no torture could wring from him where it 
was hidden—so great is the obstinacy of the wicked! 
But I knew that a rumour had reached certain ears that 
he had confided his secret to ‘The Thousand Wise Men,’ 
and what this meant I could not tell.” 

She was listening now with fixed attention. The other 
two also. Sie looked only at the ground. 

“Then after many days, and in great despair, I heard 


268 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


of an intelligent graduate skilled in answering questions 
and to him I went, and after certain questions designed 
to test him and hide my purpose, I asked him who were 
The Thousand Wise Men/ and he answered that this 
was the ancient and little known name of the Tara Lama¬ 
sery in the Land of Grass. What then was I to do?” 

“You should have returned and laid that question be¬ 
fore the Throne.” 

“Sacred Majesty, such was my Will, but in condescen¬ 
sion to this entirely humble one remember that it was then 
past mid-October, that time was precious, for the winter 
makes hard travelling in the Land of Grass, and that I 
feared lest any should be beforehand with me.” 

The Empress smiled almost imperceptibly. Then: 

“You are forgiven, wise disciple. Proceed.” 

“So, through the chills, rains and snow I made my way 
to the Tara Lamasery, and there beheld great and terrible 
marvels—” 

“These reports are then true?” she interrupted with 
curiosity. 

“The half is not told. And later I was admitted to 
speech of the Holy Hubilgan, and even before I spoke, 
he knew my errand by his wisdom. And he said this: 
‘You will not find the treasure. It is disposed of.’ 
Sacred Majesty, my heart was lead within me. What 
could this inferior person say? How should I dare to 
question the Holy Hubilgan? But he condescended to 
tell me it was secreted in the ruined city of Karakorum, 
and that when I returned to Peking I should learn where 
it is now.” 

Silence. And then my master spoke with stern brevity: 











THE TREASURE OF HO 269 

“It is in the treasure vaults of her sacred Majesty, the 
Empress.” 

As I almost started from my knees in astonishment, 
I caught the swift look of fear on her face. It vanished 
in perfect composure. Silence again. Then she spoke: 

“By what wisdom, Blind Man of Hupei, have you 
known this?” 

“By the wisdom vouchsafed to me through my studies, 
Motherly Benevolence, and in ways the uninstructed can¬ 
not follow. A young man was sent to the answerer of 
questions in the Village of the Aged Duck, and learning 
the answer to the riddle of ‘The Thousand Wise Men/ 
he collected his servants in Peking and rode to the Tara 
Lamasery, scarcely halting for night or food, and he 
reached there twenty-four days before this disciple. So, 
being instructed by the Holy Hubilgan, who sent with 
him a wise lama, he reached the broken city of pride 
and there beneath the tomb of the Hutuktu Maydari 
was the treasure, guarded by a set bow with poisoned 
arrows after the manner of the Chinese. And at the 
opening of the door the flight of arrows struck him and 
he died. But by order of the Holy Hubilgan the treasure 
was collected and sent to your Majesty and it contains 
jewels uncountable and great emeralds and the Pearl 
of Good Omen and much' more. So your Majesty has 
achieved your desire; but since this disciple has done 
his utmost, and it is because of his jade dragon that your 
Majesty has become possessed of the secret, let him re¬ 
ceive the rewards promised.” 

He spoke with authority. Superstitious to the last 
fibre of her being, she shuffled and hesitated, looking 


270 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


first at the Empress Consort and then at Li Lien-ying. 
The Empress Consort took up the word. 

“This dutiful daughter fails to see that the success is 
owing to the disciple Yuan. Surely his wisdom is small, 
for the vision he enabled the Benevolent Mother to see 
in no way indicated the Tara Lamasery. If it had not 
been—” She stopped, as if she had said more than she 
meant, but the Empress laughing in triumph broke in: 

“Do you ask, wise disciple, how I bethought me of 
‘The Thousand Wise Men’? Listen, blind man! Listen, 
wise disciple! All the wisdom of the world is not bound 
up in one small camel load, nor do all the flowers of the 
world grow in one garden! I wakened from the sleep 
of vision into which the skill of the disciple Yuan sent 
me, and as in a dream I heard a voice and it said this: 
‘The Thousand Wise Men could not have told her more.’ 
Therefore, as wisdom comes in the company of the wise, 
I acted on this hearing, and the rest you have told, though 
how you knew it I cannot tell. As to reward—the dis¬ 
ciple Yuan has not earned it, for he did not discover 
the treasure. But he shall have his life, because the 
treasure was forgotten until he and his jade dragon fell 
in our way. And let him be discreet and cautious in 
our service or punishment, not reward, may follow.’’ 

She flashed round on me like lightning: 

“How did you learn of ‘The Thousand Wise Men’? 
Answer!” 

I had had a saving moment of thought while she spoke. 

“In vision, Great Ruler of the World. An old man 
who said: ‘Ask The Thousand Wise Men where is the 
treasure of Ho.’ ” 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


271 


She stopped, baffled a moment, then shrewdly: 

“Was that the old man?” pointing to the blind master. 

“So far as I know he did not know' where the treasure 
lay. But, having found it, Great Empress, why this 
anger? Could your servants do more?” 

“I am not angry. I am amused that I, working only 
by earthly means, have been wiser than you and your 
master with the Great Wise Spirits for your servants. 
Now go—until I send for you again.” 

My master spoke with the perfect composure which 
never left him: 

“Great Empress, there is one thing I must needs say 
and you hear. Because you feigned the sleep of vision 
to entrap the disciple Yuan and thereby mocked the 
Great Wise Spirits, that treasure shall bring a curse and 
no blessing. And be not angry that I say this, for it 
is not I, but the Law that cannot change. I have spoken. 
Though a poison be drunk in ignorance yet it poisons. 
You have meddled with what was above you. The con¬ 
sequence follows as his shadow follows the man. Evil 
days are upon the Great Pure Dynasty.” 

Seemingly it made no impression, but I saw the hand 
laid on the chair tremble so that the diamonds in the 
long nail sheaths flashed angry fires. 

She looked at us laughing hardily, and we got our¬ 
selves out in the usual servile fashion. There could be 
no doubt of two things: First, that her Majesty was 
immensely pleased with herself; second, that she meant 
to keep me under observation. 


CHAPTER XVII 


N OT a safe word could we utter to each other un¬ 
til, in spite of the piercing cold, I got my master 
into his robe lined with sheepskin and out into 
the wintery garden where the marble gleamed coldly 
white as the snow I had come through. There instantly 
and swiftly I gave him the message of the Holy Hubilgan, 
telling him what I could of that strange time. 

“It is well,” he said. “I, too, have heard across the 
dark. He judged it well, disciple, that the woman should 
have the treasure, since the other half was secure. For 
the Holy One knew that with these great riches in her 
hand she would continue to cheat the Allies and flout 
Europe and enrich her minions, and so fill up the cup 
of her iniquities and follies. Already she has heaped 
Li Lien-ying with riches, and others even less worthy. 
And in the South vengeance is growing as snowflakes 
fall softly one by one, and then roar downward in an 
avalanche of fury. She is doomed and her dynasty, and 
this treasure makes swifter the day of destruction. But, 
disciple, did I not say that evil would come of playing 
with the mysteries? Did I not say a curse would follow? 
You cheated the woman and she was the cleverer at that 
bad game. For she cheated you more skilfully. She 
feigned the sleep of vision. She heard all you said, 
laughing inwardly and watching, and those careless words 
to me she grasped, and now the treasure is lost and your 
272 


THE TREASURE OF HO 273 

life in urgent danger. And not your life only, but the 
sweet lady’s.” 

The fool that I had been! The dupe! I had en¬ 
dangered his life and Sie’s and all our hopes, because I 
must needs be wise in my own conceit! I had said 
enough to lose the treasure and might have easily in my 
blind folly have said more and plunged us all into utter 
ruin. I hung my head in shame and silence, outwitted 
and outplayed at my own game. 

“No, no, disciple,” he said kindly. “Who is above 
mistake? Who is the fool but he who will not learn? 
But you have learned. If I could have warned you, 
‘riding on the wind,’ as we promised, I would have done 
it, but your mind was too busy. Now what is to be 
done? I know the woman. She will play with you and 
use the Lady Sie still to search you for secrets, and then 
one day when you least think it, she will strike and that 
day be your last. I have considered of all this. Escape 
this very night and go back to your own people. Be 
John Mallerdean again. If my blind eyes weep to lose 
you, what is that? This is your sole hope.” 

“I will never leave you if you care to keep so worth¬ 
less a disciple,” said I. “And the Lady Sie! I will 
never leave her. My place is here.” 

“Disciple, I have seen her much in your absence and 
have instructed her in many things. She is of a great 
courage and full of woman’s wisdom. She it was who 
told me the woman boasted that she feigned the sleep. 
But if you die she will die also. Go, therefore, and in¬ 
stantly, and I, remaining here, will protect her, and speak 
with you; and one day you shall steal her and hide her 


274 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


away from here until the Empress is gone, and then comes 
her great day and yours. This can be done. Trust me.” 

I asked if he knew who she was in reality. 

“Of late I have learned it. The Holy Hubilgan coun¬ 
selled me to turn my sight that way, and then I saw. 
Disciple, out here we must not linger. They will dis¬ 
trust us. In the dark of this very night, before they be¬ 
lieve it possible, you must be gone. For the lady’s sake.” 

“But you, beloved master, are you safe?” 

“Safe and in honour, for it is I who was the means of 
her returning to Peking; and, seeing its immediate suc¬ 
cess, she does not consider the future. Had she stayed 
in Shansi and summoned men to the succor of the dragon, 
she had saved her dynasty and lost China for another 
fifty years. But this I would not have, and here she is. 
The Emperor besought her, but she would not hear. No, 
all is well for me. Now, without word with the lady, 
for the Empress must still trust her— Go!” 

Nothing could shake his steadfast resolution, though 
I knew he had suffered in my absence from strange and 
untrustworthy attendance. I knew also, however, and 
better than ever since my Mongolian journey, that he 
had strange and wonderful supports that even yet I could 
not understand. He walked companioned, even in utter 
loneliness. 

We sat talking of such things as we desired to reach 
the Empress until it was very late, and then he went to 
rest, and I sat up reading until I was certain the patience 
of any watcher would be wearied out. 

In matters like this the simplest, most accountable way 
is better than all the plotting in the world, and at one 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


275 


o’clock in the cold January morning, I opened the door 
quietly, walked openly through the deserted ways into 
the Ning Shou Court, where, knowing Chinese ways, I 
was pretty certain the men on guard would be taking 
things easily. They were. One stirred drowsily in his 
sleep and questioned me. He knew me well by sight, 
and I had but to say my master, the Blind Man of Hupei, 
was ill, and I was sent by him for a rare medicament 
which alone would relieve his pain. 

a And if you go off duty in my absence, though it will 
be short, say to the man who relieves you that I return 
swiftly and must not be delayed a moment at the gates.” 

I showed him the pass from the Empress which had 
been given me at Tai-Yuan, and passed out head high 
without fear or favour. It was not long before I was in 
the wholesome outer world that went its way outside the 
dark precincts of the palace. 

That night an unobtrusive Hakka gentleman entered 
the temple on the outskirts of Peking, where I had for¬ 
merly made the change that fitted me for these adven¬ 
tures. Next morning, before it was light, John Mailer- 
dean of the Customs left it unseen and proceeded to his 
rooms near the French Legation, and the Hakka gentle¬ 
man had vanished into thin air. But John Mallerdean 
kept the pass of the Empress, for having served him 
already it might serve him again. 

My master was right. The only way was to make 
my escape before the Empress had time to mature her 
plans, and Sie’s must be achieved also. 

I lay low for a bit and got on with the arrears of work 
that the Boxer business had cast to the winds, and they 


276 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


were heavy enough for us all. Only one of my friends 
had a faint glimmering, that I was having an interesting 
time while they were all boxed up in the legation, and 
I could trust him to keep a close tongue in his head. 

But for me, grinding away at my desk, life had become 
profoundly interesting, for I saw that quite apart from 
the treasure of Ho, apart from Sie, apart from the strange 
occult experiences, I had been entangled in the fringe 
of a vast and far-reaching conspiracy against the Man- 
chus. They were falling, not only by the weight of their 
own transgressions, but by the will of the majority of the 
people. That conspiracy ramified through many of the 
wisest men in the Empire. It spread out through Mon¬ 
golia into Tibet and farther. All the people with whom 
I had been brought into intimate contract were at the 
heart of it. For the blind man was the mainspring of 
it all. How little I had imagined this at first! It had 
seemed to me that every interest was concentrated on 
the treasure. Now I perceived that was only one small 
strand in the great warp and woof of the shroud that 
was slowly enfolding the Manchus and their power that 
it might lay them in the tomb of lost days and forgotten 
dynasties. 

The treasure! Would Sie use a part of it to further 
these new aims? Strange indeed and a wild justice if 
that treasure were used to work the ruin of the tyrants 
who had done its original owner to death. How I longed 
to see her, no tongue can tell. In ordinary cases if lovers 
cannot meet they can write, but now there was nothing. 
I could only trust her immense fidelity not to misunder¬ 
stand my flight. 





THE TREASURE OF HO 


277 


I had moments when the whole thing seemed a wild 
impossibility. Sie a granddaughter of the Empress!— 
how in the world could I even hope to make her mine? 
And the treasure in the Tiger’s Den—how in the world 
could I ever move it? I could make surreptitious visits 
like Ali Baba to the Robbers’ Cave, but even that would 
be uncommonly difficult, and the frequent visits either 
of an Englishman or of a native to the priest of the Temple 
of the August Peace would very soon invite imperial no¬ 
tice and bring ruin on him and on us all. Never had I 
so needed the blind man’s wisdom as when I was utterly 
cut off from it, and though I tried night after night to get 
in touch I always failed. 

Hard lines to go about my work with all this in my 
mind, and about me the muttering and seething of the 
vast city all a-bubble with conspiracy and deferred hope! 

In the secrecies of the palace none could tell what was 
germinating—not a word, not a sign would ever reach 
the outer day but by the will of the Empress. How had 
she taken my flight? Were they seeking me night and 
day? I tried to put myself in her place and failed. 

Silence, and it might be a black Finis written to all 
my hopes. 

Once or twice I met Li Lien-ying carried in his sedan 
chair, and contemptuously regarding “the Hundred 
Families,” as the people are called in China. Once or 
twice he fixed with the malignant gaze he kept for for¬ 
eigners, the tall Englishman, who passed him head in 
air. No likeness to the disciple Yuan struck his suspi¬ 
cion. All was well. And yet though I loathed him, I 
would have given much to know what he knew of Sie. 


278 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


How was she bearing this silence and separation? Well, 
he would not know that. The entrance to such hearts is 
not for the likes of Li Lien-ying. 

What drove me half mad was the court the Allies were 
paying to the Empress. They fancied her the handle by 
which they could move China and figuratively licked her 
feet. She knew it and laughed in her embroidered sleeve. 
She received their ladies with an exquisite half-melan¬ 
choly grace, saying with what pleasure she dwelt on 
the memories of past meetings. She permitted a foreign 
artist to paint her picture and it was conveyed with al¬ 
most divine honours through the streets of Peking on its 
way to the Exhibition in America. She pitted the Allies 
one against the other and scored every time. 

Knowing what I knew, it sickened me. But knowl¬ 
edge of the facts of palace life would not have moved 
the diplomatists who expect no better from an Oriental 
ruler. What would have moved them was what I could 
not tell them—namely, that she counted no longer, that 
every day the power was departing from her, and that the 
right men to negotiate with were men whose names they 
had never heard. But naturally the day for speaking 
Was not yet, and I, admitted into this knowledge by such 
strange circumstances, was on my honour to guard a secret 
which would cost lives invaluable to the hope of China. 
I remember at the club saying one night to a man high 
in the diplomatic service: 

“Did it ever occur to you that there is a strong feeling 
against the Old Buddha in the popular mind and that 
you may be wasting your sweet nothings in that 
direction?” 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


279 


“Nonsense, old man. She was never so popular. The 
Chinks think she’s done us all in the eye, and I’m not 
sure but what they’re right.” 

“So far as that goes, I believe they are. But suppos¬ 
ing she has done herself in the eye too? What about the 
execution of Yang Lien and patriots of that type?” 

“Forgotten. She has only to give their spirits a 
posthumous decoration and the people are satisfied. 
That woman has saved the Manchu dynasty for an¬ 
other hundred years.” 

“I disagree with you. I think if you dealt sternly 
with her now, you would recognize a new force in China 
that would range itself for civilization and prosperity. 
She never will.” 

“Sorry to disagree with a man who knows his China, 
but you’re wrong, Mallerdean. The Empress is the only 
man in China—the only w J ay to get anything done for 
opening it up.” 

I could say no more. The Allies flattered the Em¬ 
press, and the Empress spent what was spared from her 
own uses of the treasure of Ho on fomenting plots against 
them, and the day of hope for China was deferred— 
long deferred. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


I T was now March and the spring beginning to stir 
among the roots and I had not heard a word from 
the palace. I was sitting in my diggings one night 
anxious and disquieted, revolving all these things, when 
suddenly I was aware of a tension in the air like that 
Which precedes an electric storm, a tightening of the 
temples, a tingling of the blood—the sort of confusion in 
the brain that precedes sleep. It was not the calm slip¬ 
ping away into unconsciousness which I knew at the 
hands of my master, but something urgent, alarming, 
perplexing. I had learned much even since leaving the 
palace and I recognized the signs. My heart laboured, 
my veins swelled, the temples beat unbearably. I strug¬ 
gled no longer. I lapsed into passive submission and 
sank into the darkness as a man into deep water. It 
covered me, I was submerged. 

The darkness thinned. I saw a bright circle of light 
that covered the whole wall of my room and in it, with 
the clearness of a lantern slide, a picture—the unforgot¬ 
ten room of the Holy Hubilgan at Tara. Bright as the 
circle was, I looked into dimness, for the room was 
scarcely lit and the reincarnated one, all in white and 
sunk in white like a snowdrift, seemed to diffuse what 
light there was about him. I saw the black glittering 
jewels of his eyes fixed on me. The lips moved. I heard 
a thin far-off voice like the wind that wails in the deserts 
280 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


281 


of Mongolia. I no longer thought whether it was English 
he spoke or I heard. I understood. That was all that 
mattered. 

“To-morrow go to the Lama Temple and receive 
instructions.” 

Nothing more. I remember I either thought or said 
“Obedience!” 

The white figure raised a hand either in blessing or 
command. I saw the green gleam on the thumb. I saw 
the chin drop on the hand in the pose I remembered also, 
and the face fix itself on the future, awful and remote. 
Then it all faded. The room was dark and empty. 

A dream? Never for one moment did I think so. I 
knew I was in the midst of great events swayed by men 
who control powers little known to the multitude. I was 
for the great Lama Temple of Peking. 

I got up instantly and went off to see my chief and 
resign my position. I could not tell him the reason for 
I did not know it myself. I only knew it was a thing 
that must be done, cost what it might, and it cost more 
than a little. He argued, persuaded, remonstrated, 
offered leave, was kindness itself, but I persisted. I 
knew, and could not tell why, that it was a thing which 
had got to be done, and done it was. 

Then I went off to my secret temple and a Chinese 
gentleman equipped for a journey spent the night there, 
and took curious and valuable information from the 
priest for conveyance where he thought I was going. 

At eight next morning I was at the Lama Temple with 
a bag in my hand, and all my belongings left ready 
packed in my rooms. There are few more extraordinary 


282 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


places in the world. It is a branch of the greatest Mon¬ 
golian lamasery, and about fifteen hundred lamas are 
sheltered there, one class of them devoted to the study 
of nature from the exterior and related occult points of 
view, the second to sacred literature, the third to the 
study of the heavens and their influence on the earth, 
the fourth to the study of healing and herbal drugs. And 
while a good deal emanates from them at which our scien¬ 
tific pundits might laugh, there is more which our pundits 
could certainly not explain. By no means every one, 
whether native or foreign, is welcome in the Lama 
Temple. Indeed there are times when it is dangerous 
to enter at all, for many of the lamas are wild men from 
the Mongolian and Tibetan deserts and they have their 
own views and their own way of expressing them. It is 
the strangest place in Peking. 

The Sacred Throne is always uncommonly courteous 
to the inmates of the Lama Temple for excellent reasons 
connected with its dominion in Mongolia and Tibet, and 
the vast influence exerted by the Peking brotherhood. 
But I, though I have not mentioned it before, had paid 
my respects both before and after my visit to the Tara 
Lamasery. I knew my way. 

I went at eight, for at nine all the Yellow-Robed would 
be flocking to matins, and passing through one of the 
arches shining with its imperial-yellow tiles, went and 
stood by the four-sided monumental tablet which tells 
the story of Lamaism in four languages, Tibetan, Mongol, 
Chinese and Manchu. There I waited, listening to the 
distant chanting of the lamas in the Temple of the Great 
Perfect One of the Future—the Buddha who is to come. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


283 


And as I stood, a lama came up and passed me by, cast¬ 
ing a sharp glance at me, then returned and stood before 
me. 

“It is the disciple Yuan,” he said. 

I bowed. 

“Holy Sir, the unworthy disciple salutes your wisdom, 
but I desire to say that I am not at present the disciple 
Yuan for reasons. I am the Chinese Won Ting.” 

“That is understood, but it was needful to be certain. 
Last night came a message from the Holy Hubilgan of 
Tara, informing us that you would be here. I have a 
message in charge for you also from His Holiness.” 

“It shall be humbly received. I myself beheld the 
Holy One last night.” 

He looked at me with interest. He was a young man 
with well-cut features, covered with the impassive calm 
that hides all secrets, that nothing can penetrate. A 
remarkable man, I thought then, and I was not mistaken. 
I have heard of him again of late years in a connection 
I dare not reveal. 

“You are then high in favour. The Holy One does not 
lightly show himself. But you are the disciple of the 
Blind Man of Hupei.” (He made a gesture of deep 
reverence.) “I have it in charge to say to you— this” 

A pause, while he looked gravely at me as if measur¬ 
ing my forces. Then he resumed. 

“The blind man has been ill for many days, owing to 
a powder administered by those who shall not be men¬ 
tioned. His death is not intended, that is certain, but 
it was wished that he should be unable to communicate 
with you and with one of the Court ladies who is his 


284 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


disciple. We have this from one in the palace who is 
the slave of the Holy Incarnations at Lhasa and Tara. 
It is truth. But because these Great Ones know that 
for a time the blind man cannot protect her, it is deter¬ 
mined to remove this Court lady from attendance on the 
Empress who treats her with such severity that it is 
feared her departure to the Yellow Springs (death) is 
contemplated.” 

The blood rushed to my face. Terrible tidings for 
me! So that was why I had not heard. My master, 
ill and helpless, Sie exposed to cruelty and death!— She 
was useless now the Empress had, as she believed, secured 
the whole of the treasure. And she knew secrets, many 
and weighty; she was a danger. Desperate thoughts 
rose in my mind. I turned my face to the Forbidden 
City, but the lama anticipated my thoughts. 

“Have no fear. The faithful one in the palace car¬ 
ries out the instructions of the Holy Hubilgan and each 
day gives the powder of healing which slays all poison 
and the blind man rests peacefully. For the lady it is 
more urgent. For certain reasons beside her safety the 
Holy One desires her presence. Therefore last night, 
to the Empress, and all who surround her, was adminis¬ 
tered the diamond powder of sleep, and the faithful one 
led down this lady and with trustworthy attendants sent 
her to the Pass of Nankow, returning to the palace to 
watch over the blind man. It is the desire of the Holy 
One that you ride with her to the Tara Lamasery. And 
have no fear for the blind man, for all is well. The 
span of his life is nearly eight years, and his reincar¬ 
nation will be glorious. And it is in the mind of the 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


285 


Holy Hubilgan that you have been faithful and that your 
love for the blind man is a thing commendable in earth 
and heaven, and therefore you sit at the feet of his pro¬ 
tection. Take this as a sign that so it is.” 

He laid in my hand a ring with a purple stone deep 
cut with the holy swastika, and put it on my hand. 

“Now go in haste, for at the Hsichi-men station the 
train leaves in fifty minutes and it is better that you go 
thus than in another way the woman yonder might trace. 
Go, remembering that this ring will open the way for 
you through Mongolia and Tibet and farther; and when 
you show it to any you would confer with, repeat these 
words—“The Jewel in the Lotus,” and all will be well. 
Here you are always welcome.” He bowed and turned 
away and I hurried to the gate, wild with hope and 
wonder. 


CHAPTER XIX 


T HREE hours later I stood in the great archway 
of Chu-yun-Kwan with the heavy white marble 
panels gloriously sculptured, which for so many 
centuries have watched the wild and wonderful life of the 
old NankoW Pass. Away through the great wall go the 
caravans to Mongolia, Tibet, Turkestan, Sungaria, 
and many more strange places. For thousands of years 
these caravans have travelled into the darkness of ages 
and are lost to the memory of man. Still they go on 
their toilsome way to—nothingness, a wild and touching 
sight. But my eyes and ears were sealed. I could only 
watch a drove of camels silently undulating toward me, 
one fitted for the riding of woman, and there I stood 
rigid until a party of eight men, one of them a lama, 
the rest, guards following the camels, entered the arch¬ 
way and with them two women—with veils thrown over 
their heads and ready for the road. The lama ap¬ 
proached me, and I raised my hand with the gleaming 
stone and repeated the words—“The Jewel in the Lotus.’ 7 
His face relaxed into a half smile, and Sie threw aside 
her veil, her faithful eyes on mine. 

She made a quick movement with her hands—no more, 
then bowed gravely. I knew the Oriental etiquette of 
the aloofness of the sexes, so strong in China that people 
who keep the old customs scarcely approve of the clothes 
of men and women being hung on the same peg! So I 
286 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


287 


followed suit, knowing my chance would come and soon. 
And after all, a good deal can be said with looks when 
nothing better is available. There was no time for any¬ 
thing more. The lama gave the word to mount and 
ride swiftly. Indeed they had only delayed for me, 
for when Sie was missed from the palace the hue and 
cry would be out over Peking. The Empress had excel¬ 
lent reasons for keeping her under her eye. 

So the camels were set to their best speed, and splen¬ 
did beasts they were, tall, powerful and perfectly trained. 
We devoured the leagues, and once in the Land of Grass 
and with our experienced Mongol guard there was little 
fear of pursuit, for we could leave the beaten track and 
plunge into the mountains. It troubled me to think of 
my Sie in the filthy inns along the route, but I might have 
spared my anxiety. The Holy Hubilgan has a long arm 
in Mongolia, and the lama told me he had a system of 
yurtas (tents) laid along two alternative routes that the 
lady might not suffer. 

There were sufferings which could not be avoided, 
however, for the wind had a knife edge of cold, and 
every now and then light snow showers fell on the drift- 
edged way. But she was furred to the tip of her dainty 
nose. I could see nothing but two star-bright eyes look¬ 
ing my way, and as to her courage— Well, I have said 
what I think of that already. It was as strong and 
pliable as wrought steel springs. Her camel Was specially 
chosen for its easy gait, and when we dismounted for 
food she declared she was enjoying the wonderful free 
air after the caged life of the Court. 

We walked a little apart from the busy group light- 


288 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


ing the fire of argols, and at a respectful distance her 
woman followed. I sprang at my chance. 

“Sie, I have spoken with you often, but I have never 
said I loved you in so many words. Yet you know it, 
is it not so?” 

Only the bright eyes in the drift of white fur met 
mine—but bravely. 

“My cousin, I know it. The love of the family is 
strong in my country, but that you should feel it for 
a stranger and one so far off in blood—” 

“That love is very well; it is a duty, but it is not the 
love I feel for you. You are not truly my cousin. We 
are many generations apart. Yet I love you so much 
that the sun is dark when I do not see you. You are 
my life to me—my only hope.” 

She looked down then, and in a voice of infinite sad¬ 
ness said: 

“I have no friends, no kindred. I am alone.” 

I did not enlighten her on that point. The time was 
not yet. 

“Sie, is it only as a cousin that you love me? One 
can certainly live one’s life contentedly without one’s 
cousins. Can you be content if I go away and you see 
me no more?” 

I saw two large tears gather and bead on her black 
lashes. No more was needed. 

“In my country,” I said, “when a man asks a woman 
if she can love him, if she will be his wife, she answers 
Yes or No like a queen, for she is her own to give or 
withhold. I love you. I ask you to be my wife—equal 


THE TREASURE OF HO 289 

with me in every right of love and honour. But yet— 
before you answer, hear this.” 

For I thought it right to repeat what I knew the blind 
man had told me of her great and almost terrible riches 
and the power it would give her in the world and in the 
future of her country. I told her that what I possessed 
was as dust in comparison. There was nothing left un¬ 
said on those heads for it was right she should know. 
Only her position with regard to the Old Buddha I con¬ 
cealed, for I knew in her great self-sacrifice she would 
dread to expose me to the risks that alarming factor 
might bring. 

She heard me with the courtesy of an Oriental woman 
—no exclamation, no word; then, when I paused, she 
spoke modestly and firmly: 

“My lord” (I noticed the “cousin” was dropped), 
“you have spoken. I have heard. What are riches? 
To me nothing. You offer me love. I have never had 
it. Honour—it has never come my way. Truth—I have 
never heard it until I saw you and the blind master. 
Fidelity. I have heard there was such a thing, but 
never dreamt I should meet it. I have had loneliness, 
cruelty, untruth and evil for my daily portion. My 
lord, you offer me such riches that my heart trembles 
and I cannot count them. What is gold, what are 
jewels? What are the blood-stained treasures of my 
family? I am your servant at your feet, and if you 
lift me to your heart, my whole life shall bless and thank 
you.” 

I may write her words, but cannot write her lovely sub- 


290 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


missive sweetness, yet with passion and fire shot through 
it. Surely the most beautiful things in the world can 
only be beheld but never described. In silence a man 
must adore what he cannot wholly comprehend—the 
proud submission of a noble woman. It was vain for 
me to tell her that my place was at her feet. She per¬ 
sisted and still persists that she was a prisoner, and that 
I had set her free to life and love and hope, that to me 
she owed all. “Even in dreams I come to you!” she 
said. 

We had many talks on that strange eventful journey, 
with the fitful sun breaking through snow clouds and the 
faint tokens of spring stirring in the air. Every day she 
blossomed more beautiful—all quick fire and life, 
a lovely rose of the desert. Even the old lama noticed 
it. He said, quaintly enough, one day: 

“When the Blessed Ananda inquired of the Excellent 
One what should be the attitude of the monk to women, 
he replied in his superhuman wisdom—‘Do not look their 
way, Ananda P And yet, worthy disciple of a great man, 
there are moments when I think that as a man may look 
at a flower and marvel at the Great Law which created 
its beauty, so also may he look at such a flower as that 
lady, rejoicing in the Law that made a creature so fair 
and kind!” 

I recognized a train of thought not too common in the 
Orient and responded eagerly, and I observed that the 
old lama always had the tent which he and I occupied 
set close to that of Sie and her woman, so that if ever a 
dog howled or a camel cried he could reassure her in- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 291 

stantly—a fatherly trait that was touching enough in its 
way. He surrounded her with service. 

So, at last we rode round the corner I remembered so 
well, and the Tara Lamasery opened before us and the 
cliff honeycombed with images of the many Holy Ones 
looking down upon us in splendid colours that flashed in 
the afternoon sunshine. The Peking lama, all smiles, 
stood ready to greet me, and the long journey was done. 

I shall never forget Sie’s delight and awe as she looked 
about her, not a fear, not a doubt troubling her clear eyes 
—uncaged at last and free. 

Every preparation had been made—a little cottage, if 
so I may call it, with two kindly Mongol women to at¬ 
tend her, was set apart just outside the gate of the great 
court, and a Gelung waited with a special scarf of bless¬ 
ing sent her by the Holy Hubilgan. These little silk 
scarfs are an etiquette in Mongolia and Tibet which can 
never be missed when courtesy is intended. The old 
lama had foreseen all this, and Sie and I were also pro¬ 
vided with the necessary scarfs for presentation on cere¬ 
monial occasions. 

I stood by to see her installed, not daring to enter, and 
then went off to the rooms I had had before, the Peking 
lama talking earnestly all the way. 

“A high, a remarkable honour, noble traveller. To¬ 
morrow at sunset the Holy Hubilgan will receive you. 
His solitude is great, and if we, the ignorant ones, may 
judge, noteworthy events are pending. It is certain that 
in the lamasery at this moment is a high envoy from his 
Ocean Greatness, the Dalai Lama of Lhasa, and that the 


292 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


Incarnate Buddha of Tashi-Lumpo is also represented. 
Sleep in peace, honoured one. By the command of the 
Holy One, all in the lamasery is at your service.” 

I looked out at the frosty stars that night—the glitter¬ 
ing constellations on their eternal way, pledges of im¬ 
mutable law, and my heart went up in thankfulness that 
my Sie was safe from pursuit, fenced not only by true 
hearts and hands, but by the terrible mountains, plains 
and deserts that guard the route between China and 
British India. If I could but know all was well with 
my beloved master I could have but the one wish left 
—that Sie were mine for ever. 

I turned in and slept in dreamless peace. 

As the sun was setting came my summons, and guided 
by the awed Peking lama I threaded my way to the Holy 
Hubilgan’s reception room. 


CHAPTER XX 


S before, it was dim and faintly lit, mysterious 



shadows heaping the corners, and the one pale 


light focussed on the startling whiteness of the 


reincarnated saint’s robe and white concentrated face 
where all the life seemed burning in the jewel-black eyes. 
There was dead stillness, a conventual calm as if the 
world lay far away and forgotten outside, but I knew 
very well that this was not so and that the keenest 
worldly anxieties were disturbing his mind and those of 
the two men who stood one on either hand—the envoys 
of the Dalai Lama and the Incarnate Saint of Tashi- 
Lumpo. The three men I saw before me may be said 
to have held the destinies of Asia in their hands, for with 
China heaving like a waterlogged ship helpless in a storm, 
the casting vote is theirs and theirs only. 

The Peking lama disappeared humbly and the door 
was made fast and I was alone with the three. 

Whether they spoke English I cannot tell. All that 
is blurred to me. I cannot tell. I only know there was 
no doubt on either side as to what was said and an¬ 
swered. These men have their means. 

It began with a courteous greeting from the Holy Hu- 
bilgan and the hope that the journey had been made 
as easy as possible for the lady and myself. I said all 
that was grateful. 

“It was needful,” pursued the Holy One, with those 
unflickering eyes on my face, “that she should be brought 


294 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


here for more reasons than one. In the first place he 
whom you know as the Blind Man of Hupei notified us 
that her life was no longer safe. There were persons 
at the Court of Peking who wished her removed, and 
he had no means of protecting her. She is the owner 
of the treasure of Ho which is concealed by The Fly¬ 
ing Tiger river, is she not?” 

I assented—they knew everthing. What was there to 
hide? The two men stood stiffly beside him. He went 
on: 

“It is known to us that you would marry this lady. 
What is her mind? Is she willing?” 

“Willing and ready. I will guard her as a trust more 
precious than the treasure she owns.” 

“The blind man assures us that she will be safe in 
your hands. It is now time to speak plainly. He as¬ 
sures us also that in all things you have proved yourself 
faithful and courageous, a worthy initiate. You are 
aware that the Manchu dynasty is doomed and that 
Mongolia and Tibet will work out their own destinies, 
relieved from a hateful yoke?” 

“I know and sympathize. Though I believe that a 
great federation of interests between China and the two 
is probable later on.” 

“We also believe this. But the time is not yet. Free¬ 
dom first, and we can then meet the Empire as equals. 
Now, what I would say is this. We have amassed much 
treasure, much wealth, for much is needed for this great 
purpose, and these lands of gold and jewels have poured 
their wealth like grain at the feet of the leaders. But 
we need more. If you marry this woman, are you con- 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


295 


tent to devote a part of her treasure to the freeing of 
Mongolia and Tibet?” 

I had no need for thought to delay my answer; be¬ 
sides, I think I had foreseen this in the Lama Temple 
in Peking. 

“What my wife owns is hers. I have no claim on the 
least jewel of it all. But if she wishes to give any or all, 
I support her in all she does, and her will is mine.” 

The Holy Hubilgan looked approval. The two men 
nodded. He touched a curiously embossed bell on his 
table, and the Peking lama reappeared, bowed to the 
earth with humility and fear. 

“Bring with you the lady of the Chinese Court and 
return quickly.” 

When the door closed, he resumed: 

“Noble man, I tell you for your joy that the blind man 
is recovered, and that the Manchu woman believes the 
Lady Sie is dead. A body was recovered at Peking which 
the slave Li Lien-ying saw with his own eyes, and this 
is now believed. There will be no further pursuit. We 
have controlled this.” 

I heard it with a thankfulness I did not conceal. Why 
should I? These men were on our side, though I knew 
well by this time that Sie and I and all the world were 
but pawns in the great game they were playing. But 
how had this news outsped our swift journey from Pek¬ 
ing? I knew. It rode on the wind, as my master said, 
and its wings were the wings of the great gales that roar 
along the steppes. 

The door opened and Sie entered alone—a light veil 
flung over her head. 


296 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


At once, seeing the Holy One, she knelt in all duty 
and reverence with folded hands and bowed head. I 
fancied that even the hard intelligence of his face sof¬ 
tened as he saw the slender figure. 

“Rise, daughter of the Excellent One, and draw 
nearer,” he said in softer tones. “And have no fear, 
for great Powers have watched and will watch over your 
safety. The cage door is opened. You are free.” 

She rose and drew near and knelt again, and the Holy 
One motioned me to bring a cushion, since she would 
not leave her humble position. I stood beside her, and 
he spoke once more. 

“Daughter of the Perfect One, the Blind Man of Hupei 
has instructed you in the evil doings of the Manchu 
rulers, and the hope of China and these outer countries 
which are faithful to the Three Jewels—the Lord, the 
Law, and the Assembly. Now listen to the words of 
him who will be your lord while he tells you our re¬ 
quest. But do not doubt that whatever your will may 
be, we respect it. The treasure of Ho is yours, to give 
or withhold, for this new order is founded on justice, 
and of fraud or force we will have none.” 

As briefly as I could I explained to her the position 
of affairs and much more than I have told here or can 
ever tell of the blind man’s hopes for the final affiliation 
of China with her sister nations (still subject nations) 
of Mongolia, Tibet, and the rest. Here and there the 
Holy Hubilgan prompted me when I hesitated, and in a 
short time the whole case was set fairly and squarely 
before her. Very modestly and quietly she asked a 
question here and there, mastering the subject thoroughly, 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


297 


which of course her previous knowledge from the blind 
man enabled her to do without much difficulty. Then 
she rose and stood beside me with joined hands and bent 
head. I can hear her soft voice still: 

“Holy One and wise men, how is it possible that I 
should hesitate? I say truth in telling you that when I 
knew the treasure was recovered by this noble person 
who will be my lord, I consecrated it to my country. 
Take it, therefore. Use it according to your inspired' 
intelligence and this is my free will, with the assent of 
my lord-to-be. But may a humble woman speak in the 
presence of the wise? Is it not possible to reclaim a part 
of the treasure which is mine and which the Empress 
wastes on evil doings? I would give it all to this great 
cause.” 

The Holy Hubilgan smiled a little with his eyes. 

“Noble daughter, when the treasure was sent to the 
Empress a part, and not the least, was reserved until 
your pleasure concerning it should be known to us. 
What was sent has sped her on the road of destruction 
as your ancestor Ho would have chosen. Therefore be 
at peace. And now I would have you know that here 
and at Lhasa has your past been deciphered and that 
this noble person and you are most truly one. In past 
lives this was begun. In future lives it will continue. 
Have then no fear, for though in the flesh he is not of 
your land, in the spirit you are one, and so will continue, 
and in both your veins runs the blood of the race of 
John Mallerdean.” 

We stood before him like children. Where was the 
end to his knowledge? 


298 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


“Also even across the dark your soul can visit his. 
This is true wedlock. But now, daughter, speak your 
will concerning the treasure.” 

“Holy One, take it all. Would that it were more. 
I need none. Surely this humble daughter of the Excel¬ 
lent One will rejoice that she is found worthy to make 
the offering.” 

They looked at her with surprise and almost tender¬ 
ness, so sweet were her generous grace and humility. 
The Holy One, more human than I have yet seen him, 
took up the word. 

“Daughter, your heart is a white lotus of the Lord. 
It shall be done as you say, and as this your lord wills, 
for his witnessed consent is also needful in our eyes.” 

He paused, looking keenly at me. 

“What share I have in my wife’s treasure I freely 
give,” I said. “What she judges best for her country I 
judge best. Be it as she says. And, moreover, she and 
I, who owe safety and life itself to Your Holiness, owe 
a great debt, and it shall be paid thus and in true-hearted 
gratitude also.” 

There was an instant’s silence. The taller of the two 
men spoke, in a deep low voice like the muffled sounding 
of a bronze gong. 

“On behalf of his Ocean Greatness I declare that the 
Lady Sie, generous of heart, should retain the glorious 
emeralds, the pearls and the sapphires, and whatever 
else she may choose, that there may be great wealth left 
in her hands for the helping of the cause with her own 
wisdom.” 


THE TREASURE OF HO 299 

The other man continuing as if in the same voice, 
spoke: 

“It is the will of the reincarnate Buddha of Tashi- 
Lumpo that the lady retain this wealth and use it in her 
wisdom and that of her lord.” 

And the Holy Hubilgan finished the matter: 

“It is also my will. Be it known to you, noble for¬ 
eigner, that for a hundred years and more we have known 
of the treasure in the dead city of Karakorum and in the 
Tiger’s Den, and we could have taken it when we would. 
But it is the word of all the Buddhas, ‘Do no wrong. Be 
just in word and deed,’—and if we permitted the Manchu 
woman to take the half of the treasure it was that the 
other half might be preserved for this lady. But now 
we will send for it also to the Tiger’s Den, and here be¬ 
fore your eyes it shall be unveiled, and the division 
made. And meanwhile, if it is your will, I say let the 
marriage be made, that as man and wife you may act 
together in this great matter.” 

If any one had told me in former days that I should 
marry a Manchu lady of high degree, that the Holy Hu¬ 
bilgan of the Tara Lamasery would act as matchmaker 
for me, that the representatives of the Powers of Lhasa 
and Tashi-Lumpo would gravely approve, that the whole 
thing would be warp and woof of one of the most earth- 
shocking convulsions of modern times, what should I 
have said—what believed? But the irony of events out¬ 
paces fiction. As I tell it, it was. I can say no more. 

We were married Chinese fashion with the joint wor¬ 
ship of Heaven and Earth, and Mongol fashion with 


300 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


the simulated capture of the bride, and in submitting 
to their custom Sie won every Mongol heart, and the 
news of her beauty and riches and patriotism, and the 
favour of the Holy One spread like wildfire down even 
to the borders of India. The caravans carried it, the 
returning envoys published it abroad. So beloved was 
she that they bestowed on her the name of Wen-Cheng, 
professing to believe her a reincarnation of the lovely 
Chinese princess Wen-Cheng, wife of the Tibetan king 
who there introduced Buddhism. I can safely say that 
such was her influence that she might have ridden jewelled 
and unattended through Mongolia and Tibet in perfect 
security and welcomed everywhere as a messenger of 
good. 

I must gather up the threads of my story. The treas¬ 
ure was sent for and brought to the Tara Lamasery, and 
there, before the Holy Hubilgan were opened the leather 
box and the leather packets I had last seen in the green 
and water-resounding cave of the Tiger’s Den. Sie and 
I looked on and marvelled as the splendours rolled into 
the light from their long imprisonment. There were 
pearls to deck all the mermaids of the China Sea, won¬ 
derfully wrought topaz and jade cups, jewels, jewels, 
jewels—need I describe them all? I had scarcely 
thought such wealth was on the face of the earth, what¬ 
ever may be beneath it. With it came also the treasure 
of John Mallerdean which had been secreted in the loft 
behind the colossal golden Buddha. The Excellent One 
had guarded the trust well. There were the six great 
cabochon emeralds and all that I remembered. The 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


301 


Karakorum wealth also. What would not Li Lien-ying 
and the Empress have given to dip their fingers in this 
mighty splendour tossed about the chamber of the Holy 
Hubilgan! 

And now my surprise came. 

These dignitaries in this wild remote place had their 
agents in India, and they in turn their agents not only 
in Europe, but all over the world. They knew with 
exactitude the best and most businesslike course to be 
taken in disposing of these wonderful gems. It was to 
be done gradually and with the most absolute discretion. 

It was already known that a ready market for some 
of the most splendid would be found among the great 
princes of India. 

To make a long story short, for this affair was spread 
over two years, Sie’s share when realized amounted to 
about a million sterling. What the rest fetched I am 
under bond not to reveal for its use is just begun. 

We might have ventured safely into China, always 
provided we kept out of Peking, for the old Empress had 
never a doubt of her granddaughter’s death, but other 
work was appointed us before and during the Great 
War, and on that I must be silent for it touches as much 
on coming events as on the past. Much of the treasure 
of Ho was spent on the needs of the needy then, and of 
all the glory of jewels it was very characteristic of Sie 
that she kept but one jade pendant for her own use, and 
the little jade ring with its vein of rose which in the 
terrible palace I had first seen on her finger. 

“A great lady needs no jewels,” she said; and as my 


302 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


wife she thought herself a great lady indeed. She was 
one, however, on other grounds—a princess of women. 

As the Empress grew more arrogant, more dangerous, 
with increasing years, more tyrannical to the wretched 
Emperor, the blind man left her, and, travelling into the 
deserts, joined the Holy Hubilgan at the Tara Lamasery, 
where, still serving as his disciple, I acquired knowledge 
for which the world is not yet ripe, though the dawn is 
grey in the East. If ever there were a saint and a 
patriot it was he. If it were permitted to me to lay bare 
his knowledge and the deep wisdom he had gained from 
it, many would marvel, and science hand in hand with 
faith would receive a new impetus. 

But this must wait the appointed day with other good 
things that are coming. 

It is a strange fact that on the day the great Empress 
fulfilled the measure of her life, he also departed, tended 
to the last, by the faithful hands of Sie and by mine. 
I give his last words: 

“I depart in great peace and joy to the Heaven of the 
Buddha that is to be, he who in his coming shall bring 
peace and light to the world, and I await a glorious rein¬ 
carnation.” 

“He is himself a Buddha-to-be in the due opening of 
the years,” said the Holy Hubilgan, closing the sightless 
eyes with his own hands. And for the first and last time 
I saw his lips tremble. More than this of my master’s 
history I have never known. 

But this I believe to be true: The blind man will 
return. 


THE TREASURE OF HO 


303 


What shall I say of my wife? How can a man praise 
his dearer self? I will say this and no more: When 
I think of the treasure of Ho, I remember that living 
precious treasure and nothing else. 


THE END 









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